#doin more food drawings >:)

[galacticsabc]

Strawberry Morning

#doin more food drawings >:) #food #food study #art #artwork #food art #strawberry #fruit #breakfast #aesthetic #aesthetic dessert #art study #art practice #tw food #food tw #pink #my art #my artwork #digital art #dreamerx86

[osaemu]

REUNION: GETO SUGURU

✩ ‧ ˚. synopsis: hunger games!au: you come home to your mentor, who has every intention of giving you all the pleasure you've been deprived of for weeks. NSFW

contents: fem!reader. mentor x tribute (who is 18-19, duh). lil bit of plot, lil bit of angst. oral (f. receiving), squirting, pet names. mentions of starvation. mentions of prior sex before the games. age gap isn't specified—for all i care, he could just be a year older than you. not lore focused.

“holy shit, you’re actually alive,” suguru whispers, lips pressed to the top of your head as he holds you against his chest. you nod shakily, tears streaming down your cheeks. “holy shit,” suguru repeats, pulling away to study your face. his rough thumbs instinctually wipe away the flood of tears wetting your cheeks, but they just keep coming—so he gives up.

“c’mon, let’s get you back home,” he murmurs, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and shielding you from the onlookers of your reunion. you lean into his side, too teary-eyed to care about the hundreds of capitol citizens watching your every move. suguru whispers bits of praise here and there as he leads you back to the building deemed your “home” by the capitol—at least, for the next couple days, before you’re shipped off back to your district.

the elevator ride up to your floor is excruciating—it’s quiet, painful, and strained, because neither of you know if it’s bugged. it probably is, and even though you have nothing wrong to say, you both want to keep your hearts private. it’s hard not to collapse on the way to your room, but thankfully, suguru’s there to hold your weakened body as you stumble to the ghost-white door that separates you and your bed.

“missed you so much, suguru,” you whisper as he scoops you up bridal-style. your mentor nods, dark eyes inspecting every part of you he can see as he lays you down on your perfectly-made bed. suguru starts to leave, presumably to get you food or water or something, but you grab onto his sleeve before he can get too fast. “stay,” you plead, eyes wild with an emotion he can’t identify yet.

“you need food,” suguru reminds you, lips curving upwards with a little smile. you shake your head and, with the remainder of your strength, pull him a centimeter forward. you know only too well that if he wanted to, suguru could shake you off as easily as a fly—but he lets you tug him down next to you, breath held in his throat.

“i need you,” you insist, and that’s enough for him. one way or another, both of your clothes end up discarded to who-knows-where, save for a hoodie that suguru snatches up from the floor and pulls over your shoulders.

“in case you get cold,” suguru explains, gently manhandling you into a position that’ll give his mouth easy access to your neglected cunt. his soft, dark eyes lock with yours from where his chin rests on the bed in between your thighs. you stick out your bottom lip in a pout and attempt to pull the hoodie back over your head, but he shoots you a warning glance before you can do you. “you’re still weak, sweetheart. i shouldn’t even be doin’ this for you.”

“i’m fine,” you insist, reaching out and threading your fingers through his hair. “just… do this for me, ‘kay?” you whisper, rounding your eyes pleadingly. “please, suguru, i’ve missed you so much—”

the rest of your sentence is lost when he turns his head and presses his lips to the soft inside of your thighs. maybe you’re just imagining it, but his lips feel drier than you remember—although, that soon changes.

“you’re still as sweet as you were before the games, honey,” suguru mumbles, tongue lapping at your needy cunt. “so sweet f’me, heh,” he continues, fully immersed in the way your pussy eagerly welcomes the warmth of his mouth. the games starved you in more ways than one, but the only hunger you find yourself focusing on is for suguru.

“missed you s-so much, sugu,” you breathe, moaning when suguru’s tongue toys with your clit. he kitten-licks the sensitive spot, drawing out gasp after gasp from your lips. “too much, too mu—”

“i missed you too, pretty girl,” suguru murmurs, hands secured around your thighs. he maneuvers his tongue all over your cunt, and places you forgot existed throb with pleasure from the way suguru treats them. he treats you delicately, as always—but that doesn’t stop him from giving you the best time of your life. 

“make me cum?” you ask softly, eyes fluttering open and shut with every movement of suguru’s mouth. he smiles, nose brushing against your folds from how deep he is in your cunt. 

“whatever you want, baby,” he affirms, squeezing the inside of your thigh and sucking on your sensitive clit—hard. it’s enough to make your thighs involuntarily squeeze around his head, making suguru laugh into your cunt. “keep ‘em just like that,” he mutters, holding your legs in place even when you try to spread them again. “good girl, jus’ like that.”

“sugu, m’ close,” you gasp, back arching from the pressure of his mouth on your cunt. at this point, you’re so sensitive that even the soft puff of air suguru exhales as he eats you out makes you shiver. “gonna cum, gonna c—”

“then do it, sweetheart,” suguru interrupts, looking up at you, a challenge in his eyes. “cum on my face, honey. c’mon, you can d—”

this time, you cut him off with a long, drawn-out moan as you release all over suguru’s face. it’s a feeling that’s almost unfamiliar—you can hardly remember the last time you got treated this good, save for the last night you spent with suguru before the games. you repeat his name over and over again as the orgasm hits you like a truck, leaving your chest heaving and legs trembling. 

in the aftermath of you squirting all over your mentor’s face, you’re dizzy—the world doesn’t seem right, and maybe it’s just you, but you’re so cold. if it wasn’t for suguru’s hoodie, which is still wrapped around your shoulders, you’d be shaking like a leaf. but thankfully, suguru’s warm as ever—he scoops you up again and holds you to his chest, gently massaging you as you come back down to him.

suguru kisses the side of your face, murmuring praises on how good you did and how sweet you tasted. “t-thank you,” you whisper, lips trembling as the words leave your mouth.

suguru raises his eyebrows curiously and asks, “for what?”

you shrug and rest your head on his chest, feeling it rise and fall with every heaving breath he takes. “for this. and for helping me get out of that hellhole alive.”

suguru’s lips curl upwards, forming a soft smile as he presses his lips to your forehead. his hair falls onto your face, brushing your cheek and filling your nostrils with his warm, comforting scent. “that’s my job, sweetheart. now c’mon, let’s get you some food. i’m sure you’re starving.”

#osaemu #geto x reader #geto smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #geto suguru x reader #suguru geto x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #geto x you #geto x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #suguru geto smut #geto suguru smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x y/n

[konigsblog]

tw: ghoap x fem!reader, kidnapping, rape/forced rape, recording, oral rape.

it's sick and twisted the way your once lieutenant is treating you and the sergeant. spread out and restrained with chains binding your wrists and ankles to a metal table. simon stands with a camera, recording johnny raping your hole. it's all live, with disgusting, deranged men watching you get raped for hours on end.

johnny doesn't want this, he absolutely hates inflicting pain onto you. but, with simon giving him an aphrodisiac, he can't control the way his cock hardens and throbs when it's stuffed inside your pussy. cum, blood and sweat cakes onto your thighs, your slick rolling down in pearly drops. you make eye contact with simon — a man who you thought you could trust — and seeing his eyes crinkle into a cruel smirk behind the skull balaclava. it all makes it more terrifying, that you don't even know what he looks like.

the table your body is bound onto shakes due to johnny's fast thrusts. he pumps his veiny, hot shaft into your slick walls, both of his large hands on your ass, gripping tightly as he chases his release. all while simon degrades johnny for being so brutal, so ruthless and restless — as if he didn't force johnny to rape your pretty body after slipping an aphrodisiac into his food.

“filthy man, johnny... look what you’re doin’ to her.” he takes a step closer, holding the camera in his large, rough hands and zooming in on your swollen cunt. puffy folds and blood soaking your slit.

“‘m sorry...--please-fuck, bonnie--!” johnny moans out and throws his head back, his cheeks tearstained and flushed from sobbing. the more people donate, the longer this goes on, the longer he allows this assault to your weak, sore body. that face covered in tears.

USER761518: “make him rape that pretty mouth, put it to better use.”

USER297281: “why don't you join in? make sure she's full of cock, rape her ‘til she's limp, ‘til she's fucking dead.”

you're so, so incredibly painful. unable to catch your breath, or focus on anything other than the way johnny's rocks and pumps his bulbous dick into you.

simon decides to rape your mouth, hand tightly wrapped around your neck, choking you and holding your head back. simon records from his view, from above and allowing the viewers to see from his perspective. they watch as simon takes slow, hard thrusts to absolutely pounding his girthy cock down your throat. the sounds of your gags echoing throughout the room makes johnny feel horrible, he feels pity for you — but then again, that aphrodisiac has been drawing out his orgasm for hours and he can't seem to pull out without cumming deep inside your hole first.

simon's hand gropes your tits, smacking them while he records the way johnny slams into your hole repetitively. you're not even fighting anymore. your hands aren't pulled into a tight fist, your mouth stays open, your jaw stays slack, and you keep your legs spread apart for johnny to ruin your cunt. just crying and sobbing and choking on the ropes of simon's bitter seed while johnny finally fucks his hot, thick release into your pussy. his thrusts nonstop, ‘til he chokes on a sob and apologising profusely for brutalizing your body like this.

#put me in this position with them ‼️ #ghoap x reader #soap x reader x ghost #soap x reader smut #john soap mactavish #cod soap #mw2 ghost #cod ghost #ghost call of duty #ghost x reader #ghost x reader x soap #tw: r*pe #tw: non con #orla speaks

[silassinclair]

Yandere Wild West Outlaw x Reader

CW// Possession, Obsession, Yandere Behavior, Jealousy, Suggestive Content, Gaslighting, Maddox has a housewife fetish (16+)

Masterlist

When Maddox first saw you hiding in your wardrobe after having killed your Father he was shocked to see such a pretty woman inside. He knew your Father had a daughter but he didn't know she'd be a fierce and beautiful young woman.

Maddox knew he had to have you. No way was he going to leave you in this bumfuck town in the middle of no where. You're too valuable.

He ties you up and takes you away from your hometown. You're his now so he's taking you with him wherever he goes. Having a pretty little accessory like you will give him bragging rights after all.

He takes you to saloons while he plays cards with his buddies. Has you sit still and look pretty on his lap while he drinks and plays. His friends say dirty things about you. Commenting on how submissive you are for Maddox. Maddox eats their comments up like a full course meal.

"You boys wish you had this fine piece of ass. But she's mine."

When you're at his temporary house he has you play housewife. You cook his food, clean his laundry, and most importantly you take him like a good girl and let him use you to pleasure himself.

"You like that yeah? You don't? Then shut your pretty little mouth n' take it anyway. Don't make me mad now."

But over the course of a few months and after spending more time with you he sees you less as an object to brag about and more as a companion. He sees you everyday so of course he develops feelings. Feelings he denies of course.

"You think cus' I'm being nice lately you can just skip doin' laundry? Well you've been a good girl this week so I'll let it slide... But you're doin' it tomorrow! No excuses!"

Maddox takes you to the saloon with him again as usual. This time the sexual comments his friends say make him see red. He draws his gun and shoots them all dead where they sit.

"I should have never let em' say that vulgar shit bout' you. Shoulda never let you in that shithole in the first fuckin' place. C'mon, we're goin' home."

Fucks you gently this time and prioritizes your pleasure over his. You're so cute mewling beneath him. Praises you instead of degrades you.

"You can take it princess, c'mon! Don't tell me to slowdown when I can feel how good you feel on me. Yeah that’s it, good girl. Doin’ so good for me… Ya’ feel divine~"

He slowly starts bringing you into town less often. When you ask why you can't come with him he simply says that you're safer at home.

A month goes by and you're tired of being holed up in his house. So you take the risk and leave while he's taking his afternoon nap.

Bad Choice….

"You thought you could leave me?! Baby I love ya', I really do but sometimes you're real fuckin' stupid."

Locks the doors, windows, and always has his eye on you. When he has to go out he keeps you tied to the bed by the ankle.

Every night he holds you close to him. He's a light sleeper, he'll feel if you move and try to escape him. If that happens he'll embrace you in a nearly bone crushing hug.

He’ll wrestle with you if you try and fight him, but he’ll never strike you. He’d never do that after seeing the abuse his Mother endured from her customers at the brothel.

Comes home one day with two golden rings. He wears one and forces the other onto your ring finger. It's a perfect fit.

"You're my wife now and I'm your husband. You'll address me as such, got it?"

No wedding, no priest, no judge, no documentation. He says you're his wife now and that's that.

"There's names engraved inside the rings.? That's just the name of the jeweler I got it from... Don't worry your pretty little head about it."

You two never get to settle down. You hop from one abandoned home to the other. After all he needs to always be on the run from the law. It's a stressful but exhilarating lifestyle. Danger lurks at every corner.

Loves calling you by his last name. Though your last name is still legally L/n; Maddox says that since you’re his wife you have his last name. After all you two are wearing the rings to prove it!

"Thank you for the meal Mrs. Graves, God you're perfect. Where have you been all my life?"

He adores your body. Doesn't matter what body type you have. Chub? He's kneading it with his hands while he praises you like the goddess you are. Insecure about how the outline of your ribcage is visible? He traces his fingers down to your tummy and then goes even lower... He can't keep his hands off.

Favorite thing to do is hug you from behind and just press your backside against him while you do chores. It feels so domestic and it makes him feel like he isn’t a wanted criminal for a moment.

Kisses? He loves to kiss you! His favorite spots are your ankles, tummy, and forehead. And your lips ofc!

Whenever you have to slip your stockings on he swats your hands away and does it. He’ll pull them up sensually and slowly, trailing kisses from your ankle up to your thigh as he does so.

“Your skin’s so soft princess, just wanna take a bite. You’ll let me right?”

He loves animals. His horse Jasper is his best friend. Jasper won't let anyone ride him except for you and Maddox. Anyone else gets thrown off and stomped on.

Since this is the 1800’s people don’t really bathe as often. But Maddox is different. He can’t stand having grime on him for too long after you called him stinky once. So now he bathes more often than most. And you bathe with him too. You have no choice in the matter.

“Mmm love it when you wash my hair sweetheart… Ya’ fingers feel like heaven..”

Maddox is a tough guy. He's taken bullets, stabs, you name it. He even survived a hanging once. If anything happens to you he'll fight God himself just to keep you safe. Even if it costs him his life.

"GET YA' MEATHOOKS OFF MY WIFE YOU FUCKIN' ANIMALS!"

Tells you he loves you everyday. And if you don't say it back? Well he'll just bug you until you say it. After your "marriage" he doesn't really punish you anymore. You’re his partner for life, you deserve the world.

Respects women. His Mother worked in a brothel so he witnessed how men mistreated women. He could never do that to you... Even though he did early in your relationship. But he'll never admit that! Bring it up and he'll call you crazy.

"Sweetheart I never harmed a hair on your head, quit talkin' nonsense."

Teaches you how to fire a gun just in case. Hopefully you'll never have to use the skill though.

Spoils you whenever he can. Maddox has a decent amount of money but it's still pretty tight. Buying you things isn't an option because being on the run means you need to have minimal baggage. So he treats you to dinners and cute little dates.

Overtime you get used to this life. You forget he ever even killed your old man.

Anyone is free to request anything! Don't be shy! I'm hyperfixiating on this oc so I'll happily write anything for him. As long as it isn't blatant NSFW :-)

#yandere #yandere x reader #x reader #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #obsession #headcanons #yandere headcanons #maddox graves #western #fem reader

[thatmrmiller]

Give an Inch, Take a Mile

Pairing: Dark!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Warnings: 18+ smut, Dead Dove Do Not Eat. Death, alcohol consumption, drugging, manipulation, significant age gap, noncon, virgin!reader, forced breeding, likely other very dark themes throughout. Read on at your own risk.

-

When Joel found out your dad had left you here alone when he went on a supply run, he checked in on you now and then.

It was relatively innocent at first, partially out of genuine concern.

The more he dropped in, the more this changed. He started to grow interested in you in a way he wasn’t before, noticing things like your wide eyes and mature figure.

He wasn’t sure how old you were. Probably in your 20’s, but things were different here in the QZ. People didn’t experience as much as they used to. So you likely seemed younger than you would be for your actual age in the outside world.

He came to the door one night after curfew, knocking quietly to avoid drawing attention. You answered in sleep shorts and a large oversized tshirt. Probably belongs to your dad.

“How you doin’, hm?” He asks, leaning against the doorframe intrusively.

“Fine, Joel, thank you for checking on me. But its late.” You rubbed your eyes a little. He found it quite endearing.

“I know that darlin’, past curfew, you gonna leave me on the step for FEDRA to find me?” He challenges, his voice remaining soft and gentle.

“Um, no.” You say, frowning a little and moving out of the doorway and allowing him access to your home. You don’t know why he does this, you don’t know if your dad asked him to.

You don’t think so, your dad trusts you and plus, you don’t really know Joel that well. There are other friends of your dad’s who you would be more comfortable checking in on you.

He settles himself onto the couch without permission and you watch him carefully. He reaches into his jacket and removes a small pocket flask.

“Come sit.” He beckons you to the sofa.

It’s a little unnerving, the way he comes into your home and commands the space so easily like it belongs to him.

You perch nervously on the edge of the sofa trying to keep your distance from him.

“When did your dad say he would be back?” He asks you kindly.

“Saturday at the very latest.” You respond quietly.

“And what day is it today?” He muses.

“Tuesday.” You murmur.

He hums in response.

“I know that route well.” He says. “Never known someone to take this long. It’s an easy one.”

You frown at him. Obviously, you were already aware that he was late and you are nervous about his return. You don’t know why he is telling you this, as it only serves to make you even more anxious.

He smiles at you but it doesn’t reach his eyes and is a bit unsettling. “I’m sure he’ll be back soon, honey.”

You don’t answer. He continues drinking his whiskey in your living room even though you don’t talk to him.

After a while, he gets up to leave. “You need anything?” He asks.

You do actually need more food, but you don’t want to rely on him, so you tell him no and he leaves. You would find some other way.

Another week passes of Joel dropping in every few nights. You managed to get some rations without telling anyone that your dad was gone, as you knew that made you more vulnerable. It seemed only Joel knew you were alone.

He hadn’t brought up the topic of your dad since last time, but he did tonight.

“He been gone two weeks now, sweetheart?” His tone is like a question but he obviously already knows the answer.

You don’t answer him.

“Aren’t ya’ gettin’ worried?” He presses.

“Obviously.” You murmur back.

“What was that?” He says, turning his head. You had noticed he had a good ear and a bad ear.

“I said, obviously.” You repeat with more attitude.

He laughs a little at your tone. You don’t like the way he acts towards you a lot of the time, talking down to you or chuckling away to himself like you were a child.

“Whose gonna keep you out of trouble then, huh?” He says, taking a sip of his drink. He is always drinking.

“No one else.” You say. “He’s going to come back soon.”

He pats at your thigh. You almost shiver at the feeling. He’s never touched you before.

“Yeah. I’m sure he will, sweetheart.” He says, with that wry smile again that makes you shift nervously in your seat.

He doesn’t remove his hand from where it rests on your thigh. You sit in silence until he leaves.

You dream of him that night. You dream of the feeling of his hand touching you like that, and in other places too. In your dream, you are crushed by his scent and his heat, all overpowering and overbearing.

You wake up a little ashamed and confused.

Nearly four weeks since your dad left, and Joel is round nearly every night. You have started to get used to his company. It’s at least a little bit of a distraction from the sadness that has enveloped you, the worry that consumes you each day for your father, the guilt and torment you experienced when you felt your hope resigning itself to grief.

Joel brings food and other small things for you, books, usually. You sit and read, and he drinks, usually in silence. It starts to become slightly comfortable. Or at least, it is no longer necessarily uncomfortable.

The next day, Joel arrives around noon with a solemn look on his face. He was supposed to be on shift burning bodies.

“I think you should sit down.” He says, guiding you by your lower back to the sofa.

You follow his instructions, crossing your legs, tucking them under you and looking at him, expectantly.

“It’s about your father, sweetheart. You know I was dealing with the bodies today. Well-“

“No.” You cry out.

He pats your head, an awkward rehearsed move that shows no compassion.

“I’m sorry.” He says, but he doesn’t sound very moved.

You wail and he sits down beside you. You feel weak as he pulls you closer to him until you’re almost on his lap. You appreciate the feeling of his arms around you, you think he really is trying to be sensitive, until you feel his erection pressing into you.

How can he possibly be having that reaction to you wailing in his arms? You try to push him away and crawl away from him but he locks his arms tighter around you, keeping you stuck there. You try to free yourself again but you hear him grunt slightly and realise that the feeling of you wriggling against him must be pleasurable.

Because of that, you resign yourself to sitting still in his lap and even let him stroke your hair and kiss your head gently. You eventually drift off to sleep, having exhausted yourself from crying.

After that day, Joel starts coming over straight after work, not bothering to wait until its dark before joining you in the late evening.

You struggle with your grief, barely eating or sleeping. Never reading. Most days you sit near the window and just look out. Joel drinks on the sofa. Some nights he offers you food, and most nights he leads you to bed. You stay where he puts you in your room, but usually you don’t sleep.

You’re not sure when, but he starts sleeping over. First on the couch and then more often, in your father’s room.

One day you ask him why.

“You should have someone here to watch you. Keep you safe.”

“I don’t need someone to watch me. I’m not a kid.” You protest.

He looks you up and down and smiles. “Of course you’re not.”

He comes towards you and kisses your head. You have gotten used to him doing this and while you don’t like it, you don’t bother trying to avoid it any more.

Slowly you begin to start keeping yourself busy. You start preparing food for him, just for something to do. He never thanks you verbally, but you assume that he is showing gratitude when he sits with a hand on your thigh.

One night after he eats, he offers you to drink with him. You have tasted beer before, but not whiskey. You don’t like the smell of it.

He encourages you and you eventually give in, taking a sip. It makes your throat burn and churns your stomach.

You shake your head when he offers you the glass again, but he puts it in your hand somewhat forcefully.

“Come on. It will make you feel good.” He urges.

You don’t know how that could be true but you don’t have the energy to argue so you do as he says anyway.

You continue to sip at it and force it down, pushing the glass back towards him when you are done. He fills it up.

“No.” You say, but he ignores you and slides you the now full glass again.

You haven’t been drunk before. Your dad was quite protective and would never have let you go to one of the illegal bars inside the QZ where people like him and Joel did business.

He offers you a book, and you take it. It’s a welcome distraction from the strange feeling coming over you, but you can’t really focus on the pages.

He must notice, asking you how you feel.

“Weird, I guess.” You admit.

He just nods.

“Take one of these.” He says, offering you a packet of pills from his pocket.

“No.” You say.

“It will make you focus again. It stops you from feeling weird.”

You aren’t sure how that might work but he obviously knows more about this than you and you don’t want to seem stupid so you choose to believe what he says and you take one.

He tells you to wash it down with the rest of your second glass of whisky.

After a few moments, your focus on the book is even worse. The words are blurred and you feel tired. You put it down.

“It didn’t work.” You say. Your voice sounds different, quieter.

He hums. “Strange.”

He lifts your legs and places them on his lap. Your body feels unusually pliant, like you don’t have much control over the way he moves you.

You wriggle and you feel him harden under you. You try to take your legs away but he holds an arm over them so you can’t.

His other hand moves up your leg. You are just in shorts so most of your leg is bare. His touches start gentle, drifting across your skin, almost tickling, but then he starts to grip you harder.

You can’t form words to ask him to stop, you feel like the connection between your brain and your body is broken.

He lets go of your legs and you try to move them but you don’t have any strength. His hand that is on your leg travels closer and closer to the hem of the shorts, eventually slipping under them and touching at your underwear.

You want to yell, to tell him to get off. No one has touched you like this before. But when you open your mouth only a feeble moan escapes you, and you realise you are unable to form words.

He presses at your underwear and you feel it start to dampen. It must be involuntary because you know you don’t want him touching you in this way.

You hear the sound of a buckle and look down to see that his free hand is taking off his belt and unzipping his jeans.

He takes out his cock, it is large and aggressive looking, with an angry red tip and prominent veins running down its length. It looks like a tool to cause pain, not pleasure.

He continues to touch you, only through your panties, and begins to touch himself simultaneously.

He rubs up and down the shaft of his cock roughly, and the pressure with which he is touching you becomes rougher too.

A different sensation runs through you and you look down to see that his hand has now slipped inside your underwear. You raise a hand to try and push his away, but you find your muscles are weak and you don’t succeed. Your hand falls back to your side.

He starts to grunt loudly and then something warm trickles onto your legs. It’s his cum, spurting and leaking from the tip of his cock all over you. He continues to play with your pussy for a few moments before taking his hand away.

He doesn’t bother to clean up your legs, he just supports your weight and takes you down the hall in the direction of your bedroom. He deposits you onto the bed, covers you with a blanket, and leaves.

You couldn’t really remember what had happened that night, you just remember what felt like falling asleep on the sofa.

Joel started to be more and more close to you afterwards though, all the time. Pressing into your ass when you stood in the kitchen. Guiding you onto his lap when you were on the sofa together. Sometimes, when he took you to bed, he stayed in your room. You just accepted this new way of him behaving, you knew that without your dad here, you were powerless to stop Joel.

He tries to encourage you to drink whisky with him more often, but you refuse with more conviction now after the unusual night you feel as though you had last time.

You are reading and your eyes and head start to hurt so you put your book down.

“What’s wrong?” He says.

“Headache.” You respond, closing your eyes.

You hear him rustling in his pocket and then he offers you a pill. You shake your head.

“It’s just pain medicine.” He says. “It will help your head.”

You say no again but he goes to get you water and then hands it to you along with the pill.

“It’s just pain medicine.” He says again.

He stares at you intensely and you agree to take it. He only looks away after he sees you have swallowed it.

To be honest, he was telling the truth about the fact that it took the pain away. But it replaced it with that uncomfortable fuzzy feeling you remember from before.

The next morning, you woke up in your room alone. But you were wearing different clothes from the ones you had on last night. You try to avoid him for the rest of the day.

One night, you have a nightmare. He storms into your room when you yell out in terror.

You find yourself apologising to him for disturbing him.

“Don’t apologise, sweetheart. I’ll stay, make sure you’re OK.”

“No, Joel, I’m fine.” You say, but he ignores you and climbs into your bed anyway.

You don’t know how long you have been sleeping when you are awoken again. He is sliding your shorts off of your legs.

“What are you doing?” You say.

“They’re uncomfortable.” He asserts.

“No, they’re not.” You respond, but he keeps going anyway, taking them all the way down your legs and then tossing them on the floor.

The length of his manhood presses into your asscheeks, now only covered in flimsy underwear. You try to ignore the feeling, especially when he locks his arm around you to try and keep you pressed closer to him and starts shifting his lower body, grinding against you.

He stops and eventually you fall asleep. Next time you wake up, it’s because he is touching you. His hand is stuffed inside your panties and he is rubbing you, sticking fingers inside you, touching you everywhere he can reach.

You say no and try to grab his wrist to take his hand away.

“Come on, baby.” He says. “I’ve got to look after you.”

You don’t know how that’s related to what he’s doing, and plus you never wanted him to ‘look after’ you anyway.

“I care for you. I go to work to bring you food. It’s only fair, come on.”

You struggle against him again but his grip is like a trap, the more you fight against it the tighter it becomes.

He starts to pinch and nip at your clit, rolling it between his thumb and finger. It’s such an intense feeling that a little cry escapes you.

He groans loudly in response to the sound you make and presses his erection harder into your ass. You feel grateful that at least he isn’t trying to put it inside you. You suppose you can put up with the touching as long as he doesn’t try that.

He takes his hand away from you and lets go of the tight grip around your middle. He takes your underwear off entirely. You try to protest but he just shushes you. He spreads your pussy and spits, a large amount of saliva landing on your folds and dripping down. It feels dirty and intimate. You didn’t want to do this with Joel, but you didn’t know how to get him to stop.

He uses his hands again, spreading the spit around as lubrication, and it made filthy sounds. He then put his fingers inside you, three long thick ones that stretched you out and hurt a little. He hammered them into you for a few moments, the force of his arm pushing you up the bed and making your shirt roll up. With his other hand, he grabbed the hem of your shirt and pushed it up roughly to expose your breasts. You weren’t wearing a bra and he stared at your nakedness, his mouth falling open and his eyes grew heavy and hooded as he looked at you. He was rubbing at his own cock through his boxers.

He started to play with one of your breasts, twisting and pinching at your nipple. It hurt a little and you squirmed, you don’t know if he saw that as a sign of pleasure or pain, but he kept doing it anyway.

With his other hand he started applying pressure to your clit, rubbing in circles. Then he let go of your breast and took his cock out from his boxers, you looked away. He grabbed your chin and forced your gaze back in his direction.

He fisted himself and continued to rub at your clit and finger you. It didn’t feel good but your body was having it’s own reaction, a knot of tension building inside of you that you had felt yourself a few times but never with someone else.

You couldn’t help but start to pant and whine a little as the feeling started to overwhelm you. This emboldened him and he paid more attention to the hand that was on you, rubbing your clit vigorously, making you clench and shake under him.

You wished you could stop it from feeling good, you wished you could inhibit your body’s natural reactions as you knew if he got any sign that you enjoyed this that he would start to do it more frequently.

But you couldn’t stop that tension building low in your stomach, your legs seizing up and then it snapped with a cry and you felt your orgasm coming over you.

You clenched around the fingers he had inside you, gripping them tightly. He grunted and spilled his load of cum all over your stomach and cunt.

He plays with it a little, spreading it all over you. You find it disgusting and a little animalistic. You try to get up to leave and clean yourself off but he grips you tightly and doesn’t let you get out of bed.

Joel does this with you twice more before trying anything else. You had grown numb to it and let him do as he pleased without protest. You started to believe him when he said he deserved to get to do this because he earns you your rations and brings you things he trades especially for you. His gifts become more valuable, rarer items like scented soaps, even a perfume.

You know he is trying to earn your favour, that there is no real kindness in his actions, but you do start to appreciate them for some reason.

He has taken to sleeping with you every night now. On the nights when he doesn’t touch you, he usually holds onto you and jerks off, sometimes when you are awake and other times when you are sleeping and you only notice in the morning.

He tells you off for wasting water when you try and wash the sheets every day.

You are both still a little damp from showering, his curls slicked back with water and your wet hair splayed out on the pillow beneath you. You lie there as he kisses and licks at your neck, chest and stomach. He starts to go lower, putting his hands to your underwear. You reach out to push him away but he lets out a disgruntled sound, practically a growl, so you stay still again.

He takes off your underwear and then his own, and situates himself between your legs. You try not to look at him as he ducks his head down between your legs, his stubble burning your legs as he inhales your scent deeply and licks at your inner thighs. He has never used his mouth on you before and you try to squeeze your legs together to stop him, but his hands reach up to pin your legs down and keep them spread.

He kisses and licks at your cunt hungrily. When you reach out to push his head away, he gives a harsh slap to your clit and you cry out, so you stay still and let him continue his actions.

After a while, he uses his fingers. It hurts less than usual, but you still don’t like it. Then, impatiently, he stops and moves up, positioning his cock between your legs.

He starts to grind it against your cunt, gathering up all the wetness and then rubbing it down his shaft. He nudges it at your entrance and your hands fly out to his chest to try and push him away.

“No, I’ve never- I don’t-“ You begin to protest, but he interrupts you.

“That’s a good thing, sweetheart. You’ve saved yourself for someone who cares about you.” He says.

You think the opposite, but he pins your hands above your head and continues to massage your folds with the head of his cock. You are worried that if he does this, it will somehow connect you to him forever.

When he breaches your entrance, it hurts. The stretch is unlike anything you have ever felt and you don’t like it. You feel tears forming in your eyes as he continues to push in, forcing you open.

As one rolls down your cheek, he leans down and licks it. He is grinning. He likes that he has made you cry.

You focus hard on not crying so he can’t enjoy it, holding your breath and trying to withhold your tears. But this makes you wrack with a sob, his pace increasing furiously.

He watches in delight as you cry and sniffle. Everything about this is wrong. It hurts as his stubble scratches at you when he leans in close, the force of his cock driving into you is too harsh, the grip of his hands on you is too rough.

He indulges selfishly in his own pleasure and it hurts. You assume he likes the sounds you make so you try to be as quiet as you can. The only sounds are his grunts and the wet skin slapping together.

You expect him to pull out eventually and jerk off onto you like usual, but it goes on and on and he doesn’t stop. He becomes particularly forceful and then stops suddenly with a loud groan and you feel his warm hot cum releasing inside of you.

You cry, understanding what he has done.

He rolls off of you and you lie in silence for a while.

“Can I ask you something, Joel?”

“What is it?” He says, uninterested.

“If my dad died out on the supply run, how’d they have his body here. Don’t they only have people who die inside the QZ.”

He flashes that wry expression. That deceiving smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. That unnerving, cold look that still makes your skin crawl.

“I don’t know, sweetheart. I don’t have all the answers.”

Something in your gut tells you not to believe him. You start to wonder if your dad had made it back, after all, and met his fate inside the walls of the QZ.

There would be no way for you to find out.

A/N: Thanks for reading!

#joel miller smut #tlou smut #joel miller fanfiction #dark!joel miller #dark!joel #joel miller x reader #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller fic #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you

[stvolanis]

All Dolled Up

PT. 2

PT. 1

PT. 3????

PAIRINGS: Dads best friend! Perv! Elvis Presley x innocent OC

WARNINGS: age gap (OC is 18 and Elvis is in his early 40s), SHES A CRYBABY, inaccurate time line probably, Oc is innocent, foul language, she lowkey intrudes on her brother doin the nasty, her brothers mean

NSFW WARNINGS: Elvis is a soft dom, Elvis is still a perv, corruption kink, OC humps her stuffed animal and E.P watches, Elvis teachs her how to give oral, fingering, hair pulling, praising, needy Elvis

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

The following morning was cold, and Kim had a blanket wrapped tightly around her small frame as she awoke. As she got up to get dressed, she glanced over at the dirty pile of clothes she had wore yesterday. She had set them at the edge of her bed to remind herself to wash them the next day, but she noticed something peculiar.

Her favorite panties were missing.

With a huff, she threw on a tight black long sleeved shirt paired with some comfortable jeans. Then, her search for her missing panties began. Kim dug through her dirty hamper in her closet, she looked under her bed, she even looked through her draws to see if maybe she might’ve accidentally put them there in her haze of sleep. But she was left with no leads.

She pondered what could’ve happen to them for a moment, but was soon snapped out of her thoughts at the knocking on her door. “Yes?” Kim said as she was met with deep brown eyes and chiseled features. “Ya father wants you to make breakfast.” Elvis replied in his deep, manly voice.

Kim gulped as she felt the same familiar butterflies begin to swarm in her stomach again. she shouldn’t be feeling this way, she never has before, so why now? Is this the way Robert feels when he sees Mary Lou, his crush, at school? Is that what Elvis is? A silly, school girl crush that’ll pass when he leaves? Kim didn’t know what it was, but she knew she thrived in the feelings he brought upon her with just a glance or a mention of her.

“Alright, I’ll be there in a minute.” Kim replied softly as she stared down at nothing, to fearful to meet Elvis’ eyes. Elvis felt himself having the same problem—how could he look her in her soft doe eyes after cumming in her cotton panties previously the night before? How could he without feeling any ounce of shame?

As Elvis sat down on the couch, he couldn’t help the way he thought about her again. Her long silky hair was down, and now he could see that it was down to her lower back. As Elvis watched her make her way around the kitchen, he took in the way her hips swayed with every movements. He watched as she’d mutter things to herself he could only make out as measurements for the pancake batter. But he knew he was done for when be watched her bend over to open up the oven to slide some homemade biscuits in.

She was so perfect, ideally, every honest man’s dream woman. She was smart, kind, hardworking and beautiful beyond belief. It struck Elvis in awe how she couldn’t realize the effects she had on him, and probably any other boy or man she’s come across. She was so innocently tempting, the older man wanted nothing more than to teach her everything she didn’t know. Everything she shouldn’t know. He wanted to see her face flushed and needy for him, but it was wrong.

It was so wrong of him to think of bending her over the kitchen counter to have his way with her while she was making pancakes to feed him and her family.

his thoughts were down so deep he didn’t even notice that Mike, Kim’s father had seated himself next to him. “Ya alright there, Elvis?” Mike chuckled out. Elvis flinched out of his dazed state before playing it off with a smile. “Yup, just thinkin’ ‘bout how good this foods gon’ be.” He replied as his mouth watered, but for an entirely different reason.

“My Kimberly makes the best food, I’ll tell ya that.” Mine stated proudly with a smile as he glanced fondly to his daughter. Kim walked over and set down a plate in front of both men, and another on the other side of the table where her brother would sit. Kim giggled. “Oh hush, no I don’t.” She replied bashfully.

On the plate laid scrambled eggs, bacon, pancakes and an assortment of fresh fruits from Kim’s personal garden. “I grow my own fruit, Mr. Presley. Tell me if ya like it.” Kim said shyly with a smile. Elvis had to cover his growing boner with his arm. “Just Elvis is Fine, honey, and I’ll make sure I will.” He replied with a charming smile.

“T-the biscuits are almost done.” Kim said before rushing away from the peering man. She could feel his heated gaze on her body the whole time she was cooking, and it made her new white panties dampen with wetness she couldn’t quite decipher.

She could feel his lingering stare as she took the fresh biscuits out of the oven, and she could still feel it when she was rubbing some butter onto them. He took in every little thing about her, as if he’d forget if he looked away for even a moment. Like she’d disappear, never to be seen again. Elvis felt like a creep, but he couldn’t help himself when he was around her.

“Here y’all go.” Kim said sweetly with a smile as she set down a plate of biscuits at the center of the table. “Thank you.” Both men said as they began to dig into the food in front of them. “I’m gonna go get Marcus.” Kim said.

As she rounded the corridor and made her way to Marcus’ room, she lightly knocked. The door quickly swung open revealing a red in the face Marcus. “Oh my— are you alright?” Kim asked as she took in his state. “‘M alright, just out of shape, is all.” He replied with a huff.

Kim looked over his shoulder with a quirked brow. “Who’s that?” She asked as she took notice of another body laying in his bed. “Yknow how father feels about people comin ‘round here, Marcus.” Kim said with furrowed brows. “Listen, don’t say nothin’ to him, ya hear?” He said sternly.

Kim rolled her eyes. “I won’t, what we’re y’all doin’ anyhow?” She asked curiously. Marcus felt himself begin to grow uncomfortable under his sisters curious gaze. He wasn’t gonna be the one to burst her bubble. “We were just talkin’” he said. “What did ya need, Kimberly?” He rushed out.

“Oh! Yeah, I made breakfast if you’d like some.” She replied with a smile. “I can save a plate for your friend too, if ya want?” At that, Marcus sucked in a breath of air. “Yknow that’s nice n’ all, Kim, but my friend won’t be stayin long.” He replied with a tight lipped smile. Kim felt a frown creeping onto her features.

“Alright, well, your plates on the table whenever you’re ready.” She said before her older brother slammed the door rudely on her face. Kim furrowed her brows and stormed off with a huff back towards where her father and Elvis sat eating at the table.

Elvis was in the middle of biting into a biscuit as he watched round the corner with a sour expression. “What’s wrong?” He asked with a quirked brow. Kimberly huffed as she washed the dishes. “Nothin’, Mr.Presley—I mean, Elvis” She replied as she scrubbed the dishes harder.

She knew she was being invasive towards her brother, but she didn’t mean any harm by it. She was just curious, there was no need for him to be so rude and blunt about it. He could have told her nicely to leave him alone instead of slamming the door on her face like that.

“Don’t be rude, Kimberly.” Her father scolded as he sent his daughter a look that said ‘don’t embarrass me’. Kim sighed and quickly spun around, but Elvis was at her defense in the nick of time. “‘S alright, Mike.” He reassured with a small smile.

“Well I need to head out, work n’ all. Marcus will come with me. You alright stayin here, Elvis?” Kim’s father asked. Elvis felt his heart leap at the thought of being alone with Kimberly. “‘Course, I’ll hold down the fort for ya, bud.” Elvis said with a chuckle and a pat to Mikes back.

“Alright then, I’ll go grab Marcus.” Mike said as he got up, but Kimberly objected. “I think it’s best I go get him.” Kim said, not making eye contact with Mike or Elvis. Her father didn’t think much of it, but Elvis had observed her enough to know that she was surely hiding something. But Elvis wasn’t going to pry.

Kimberly knocked on her brothers door and she heard movements coming from behind it. “Jesus, Kimberly, what do ya’ want?!” He whisper-yelled. Kim felt her bottom lip tremble. “Father was gonna’ come n’ get you. Was jus’ tryna help ya out.” She mumbled as she stared down at her feet.

“Shit—alright thanks, Kim.” He said urgently as he slammed the door on her face once again before she could get a word out. Kim wiped the tears that threatened to fall from her doll-like eyes and regained her composure before waltzing back into the kitchen to finish her dishes.

“He’s comin’, father.” She said quietly, to which her father nodded.

Marcus rounded the corner a few moments later now dresses in boots, overalls and a white t-shirt fitted underneath. His face was no longer beat red and he was no longer out of breath with hair matted to his forehead. Kim wondered what he must’ve been doin’ that got him all worked up, but she wasn’t going to ask in fear of getting him angry at her again. She couldn’t bear her favorite person yelling at her again, as sensitive as she sounds.

As her father and older brother made their way out of the old house, she bid them goodbyes and sent them off with their sacked lunches that consisted of an assortment of meats her father hunted and some chips.

Kim was snapped out of her thoughts as she felt a warm body press behind her, and large arms cage her against the sink. His hands rested on the marble counter top and she could feel his private area pressed firmly against her bottom.

Kim felt her panties dampen as they had earlier and her perky nipples hardened underneath her shirt as she felt his hot breath skim her ear. “Need help?” Elvis asked. Kim could hear the smile he wore on his face without having to look at him. “E-Elvis, I don’t think this is appropriate.” She muttered meekly as he rubbed into her.

“That’s alright, baby.” He said as he pushed himself off of her with a chuckle. Kim felt like her legs were jelly and her mind was fuzzy as she released the dishes she was washing onto a small cloth to dry. “I think I’ll be headed to my room, Mr. Presley.” She said as her little legs scurried away from the large man.

She swung her door closed, but didn’t hear the satisfying ‘click’ she normally would. Too consumed in the aching feeling of her private area, Kim stripped to just her panties and bralette. She felt so, so hot. Like her body was on fire. She felt as though she could still feel him pressed against her from behind.

The throbbing in her lower area became nearly unbearable as she began to rut against her flower covered sheets, but it wasn’t enough. She didn’t know what else to do besides grab her largest teddy bear. “‘M sorry, Mr. Bean, but it hurts.” She whispered to the bear as she began to rock her hips back and forth on it, trying to relieve some friction.

Her panty covered clit glided along the fuzzy bear and her juices were surely left in a perfect streak. Small whimpers and moans left her mouth as she sped up her pace. She had no idea what she was doing, or why she was doing it, but she felt beyond nasty. Her clit ached as it was drug back and forth at a feverish, desperate pace. But still, it wasn’t enough. Kim felt her eyes water in frustration.

The small moans and whimpers didn’t go unnoticed by Elvis as he peered around the corner and made his way to her cracked door, and that’s when he saw her. Kimberly was riding her large brown bear as fast as her little body could go, and he watched as the small tears streamed down her face paired with small whimpers and broken moans.

Her body was covered in a thin layer of sweat and Elvis felt his already hard cock begin to throb in its confinement. He unzipped his trousers and let them drop to his ankles as he let his cock spring free, slapping his shirt covered chest.

As he watched her rut against her bear, he took his throbbing member in hand and began pumping it. He imagined that instead of the bear, it was him that she was riding. He wanted her to bounce up and down on his cock like a little bunny, her full tits bouncing along with her. Kimberlys moans fueled him to continue his pace, but abruptly stopped as he faintly heard her whimper out—

“Elvis” she said breathlessly.

The man acted without a second thought as he lifted his trousers back up and zipped them before pushing open the door, shutting it and locking it behind him. Kimberly was startled as she quickly got off of her bear and attempted to cover herself with her blanket. Elvis could cum in his pants at her state.

She was in a daze as she looked up at him through her wet lashes, glossy eyes glistening under the lighting from her tears. One of her bralette straps was down her arm and she was panting heavily. He could see her small hands trembling as they balled into the sheets she held tightly to her. She was so vulnerable.

“Naughty little thing, aren’t ya?” He said with a click of his tongue. Kim whimpered as her thighs rubbed together. “‘M sorry Elvis, but it jus’ hurts!” She whined out, fresh tears lining her eyes. Elvis cooed. “Awh poor baby, y’want me to make it better, huh?” He asked as he scooped her clothe-less frame up and sat on her bed.

Kimberly was sitting bridal style in his lap as she meekly nodded her head. “Spread you’re legs for me, little love.” Elvis said softly. Kim complied and widened her legs, and Elvis took that as his sign to rub over her panty covered clit with one of his digits. Kim panted out at the stimulation.

“Please” she whimpered, not knowing what she really wanted. All she knew was that she needed more. More of what? Who’s got a clue? not Kimberly. Elvis knew, though. Of course he did. The far older man pleasuring her had years worth of experience under his belt and he planned to finally put it all to extraordinary use with the nymph in his arms.

“‘S okay, baby, I gotcha. I know.” He said as he used another digit to stimulate her. Now his index and ring finger, which just so happened to be adorned with flashy rings, rubbed harshly at her clit in a fast pace. Kim moaned loudly as Elvis pressed down onto her sensitive button.

“Yeah, y’like that, honey?” He breathed out, his cock aching. “Yes, want more Elvis, please.” She whimpered out as she squirmed in his lap. “Since you asked nicely, baby.” He replied as he pushed her drenched panties to the side and teasingly dragged one of his fingers through her fold.

She was wet beyond belief. “What’s got you all worked up, darlin’?” He asked with a knowing chuckle. Kim grew embarrassed and her face reddened. “You, Elvis. Ya make my stomach feel funny when I’m around ya.” She replied. Elvis groaned.

He prodded his finger at her entrance for a moment before abruptly shoving it in. Kimberly bit down on her lip as he bullied another finger into her tight cunt. Kim felt her body instinctively rock into his fingers at a rhythmic pace. Moans erupted from her and she felt like her mind was melting as Elvis skillfully used his thumb to roll her clit around with pressure.

She felt her stomach tighten right when Elvis took it upon himself to remove his fingers. Kimberly whined out in response. “Don’t be selfish.” He said sternly. “‘M gon’ teach you how to suck a man’s cock, baby.” He said as he sat Kimberly down on the bed next to him.

He unzipped his trousers and let them pool around his ankles before slowly releasing his cock for Kimberly to see. The young girl gawked at his size. He was cut, thick and long. And as the curious girl grasped it softly in her hand, she learned it had a certain kind of heaviness to it too. There was veins on the sides of his shaft and his tip was fat and had a reddish-pink hue to it. His balls sat heavy underneath, unshaved and manly.

“Don’t be shy, honey. ‘S not gon’ hurtcha.” He said with a teasing smirk. Kimberly laid herself on her stomach next to Elvis, now coming face to face with his cock as he sat with his legs hanging off the bed. “So big. What’s it called again?” She asked with raised brows.

Elvis sucked in a breath as he felt her hand wander to his balls. “Gots lots of names. Penis, dick—but I prefer cock.” He replied. Kim hummed in wonder. “Put ya mouth on it, love.” He replied, impatient. Kimberly did as she was told.

His tip entered her mouth first as she lightly sucked it. The pre-cum tasted salty on her tongue, but in a delicious kind of way. “Fuckkk, good girl.” Elvis praised with a drawl. “Take a little more, I know ya can.” He said, trying not to buck his hips, not wanting to startle her.

Kimberly took more of his inches down her throat and Elvis bunched up her hair into a fist, not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough to lead her. As he helped her bob her head up and down, his free hand made quick work of traveling down her back and past the crease of her ass as his fingers once again found her soft pussy and began to fuck her with two of his fingers.

Kim let out a strangled moan around Elvis’ throbbing cock, and he groaned loudly at the vibrations. “Yeah? Just like that, baby. Doin’ so good f’me. Takin’ this cock n’ these fingers so fuckin’ good.” He moaned out as she gurgled and gagged on his cock.

“Suck my balls, Kimberly.” He said. Kim obediently ran her tongue down the vein of his cock down to his balls as she suckled one into her mouth. Elvis lead one of her hands to his shaft and Kim quickly got the memo as she began to pump him up and down at a fast pace. His scent was so consuming, and Elvis felt like he was on the verge of cumming as she looked up at him through hooded eyelids.

The older man pumped his fingers in and out of her virgin cunt at a fast and hard pace and her moans seemed to be growing louder. “Elvis, feel like m’ gon’ pee, stop—“ she begged as she tried to push his hand away from her pussy. “Shh, jus’ let it happen.” He panted out.

Kimberly whined and fumbled his cock back into her mouth. Elvis felt his stomach tighten. “M’ gonna cum, baby. Shit.” He huffed out as pounded his fingers at an inhumane pace into her swollen cunt. “Oh god!” Kimberly moaned out as she jerked Elvis’ cock at the same pace he was fingering her.

White painted Kim’s face as Elvis’ cock spurted cum, and she gasped in surprise as she felt her first orgasm take over her body. Kimberly had never felt anything like it before, and it made her whole body shake. Elvis didn’t stop finger fucking her, dragging out her orgasm till he was satisfied that she’d gotten out every last drop.

Elvis gently lifted her shaking form up before getting up himself to grab a tissue. He cleaned off Kim’s face gently before cleaning himself up. “‘M sleepy, Elvis.” She muttered as she rubbed her eyes. “I know, baby. Y’ did so good f’me. So proud of ya.” He praised as he helped her get into a large oversized t-shirt and a new pair of panties.

He discreetly pocketed her juice covered panties into his back pocket as he laid her down, handing her the same bear she was rubbing herself on. “Take a nap, honey. I’ll be here when ya wake up.” He replied as he gestured towards the door.

Kimberly tiredly nodded her head as she felt Elvis lay a soft kiss to her temple. She had no idea what they’d just done, if they’d do it again, or what it meant for the both of them. All she knew was that something about it felt wrong and good at the same time. She knew what they did shouldn’t have been done but she felt so good, and as she drifted to sleep, the image of Elvis clouded her mind.

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

LMK IF YOU WANT TO BE A PART OF MY TAG LIST PLEASE CAUSE LIKE IT COMPLETELY SLIPPED MY MIND TO MAKE ONE TILL @elvisalltheway101 ASKED TO BE A PART OF IT<3334

#70s elvis #elvis fans #elvis presley #elvis presley fandom #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley fic #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley x y/n #elvis x oc #elvis x reader #elvis x you #50s elvis #elvis aaron presley #elvis music #stvolanis #elvis x y/n

[fanofstuff02]

HERE I AM! Here I am with a little writing of mine!

Before we get started, this AU belongs to @woah-why-i-am-here and they have pretty cool drawings about it. GO CHECK IT OUT!

Considering the show itself is 16+, this is aswell, know it then read this, also it has Valentino.

DEAR TUMBLR! PLEASE DONT TAKE THIS DOWN!

A little summary: Adam fell to hell, needed money, and Valentino was the only one hired him. He owned his soul, and it was too late when Adam realized what he agreed to work on. He is one of Valentino’s top whores now. And of course, Adam and Angel met, in fact, more than ‘met’. Their films sure sell a lot. They slowly become friends and Angel convinces Adam to come to the hotel. This is after these happened. Also not shipping Angel x Adam.

ENJOY! (Also since you love holydust @rius-cave , tagging you!)

“And cut!” Valentino said proudly, ending the scene. “One hour break and we’re here till 8!”

Adam panted as he tried to collect his mind. He slowly backed away from the fish demon gal, wore his robes back and got up to go to his dressing room. This was the third demon he was on top of that day, and sure enough she was not gonna be the last. Today was gonna suck. Val was planning to work on eight fucking movies, not to mention six of them were gay and two of them were with Angel. He was glad the one-hour break came.

“Addie~” He heard someone behind him and felt that certain ‘someone’ gripping his shoulders.

Valentino. Awesome. Just who he needed.

He attempted to not show the fear and hatred he felt to his face and mask. Too bad the fucking thing was programmed to show every emotion on his face, and sometimes they didn’t even needed to be on his face, him feeling them was enough. Angel had a -probably true- theory about it, he thought that it was ‘connected’ to his brain when he wore it. Adam was already regretting that he put the “I will only work with a mask” in his contract. He didn’t like the idea of showing his face on films, but this was much worse. He couldn’t fucking took it off till his shift ended!

“Yes, Val?” He asked, trying to avoid the movements he was doing to his chest. Yes, prick? he corrected himself in his brain.

“You were so, so good in the last one, babe” he chuckled.

“Thank you, Valentino.”

“Go ahead. Rest, baby.” He thought he was gonna leave him, but instead, he leaned in and kissed his cheek, completely disgusting the sinner. He didn’t flinch or resist though, he knew what’d happen if he did. “Oh, I can’t wait to see you and Angie on stage together.” he let out another one of his creepy chuckles and finally let the first man go. Adam almost runned to his dressing room, closed the door behind him and threw himself on the couch.

“Fuuck.” He groaned and tried to grab his wine bottle without getting up.

“Adam?” A familiar voice came from outside.

“Door isn’t locked!” He yelled.

“Hey, dickmaster.” A pink spider demon came inside and sat down beside him, tilted his head back and watched as the demon managed to grab the bottle and drank it without standing up, like his life depended on it.

“Y’know you can choke yourself doin’ that, right?”

“Meh, who the fuck cares.” He get up dazedly and looked inside the bottle with one of his eyes.

“I don’t recommend dying on work hours, Val punishes the ones who do.”

“Unholy shit, that actually happened?!” Adam asked, his pupil-les eyes went wide.

“I saw three accidents.” Angel shrugged. “Any left for me?”

“Sorry, I guess that bitch camera guy sneaked up here again and stole my stash.”

“It’s fine. Wanna eat your food? We’re gonna need energy.” Angel asked and took out two containers out of his bag. “I made lasagna yesterday.”

“Oh, you bet I do then.” He smirked and took his own. Angel knew the best ways to make it.

They chatted together until their break ended.

“Adam! Get your ass here or there will be consequences!” A little window appeared in Adam’s mask, almost like a pop-up ad. It was their costume designer. “And bring Angel with you!”

“Fine, fine! Ugh.” He groaned, swiped the page to make it dissapear and get up. “Who’s idea was putting this shit on this again?” He mumbled to himself. “Let’s go cocksucker, we have another job to do.”

HOW IS IT!?

By the way, Adam’s mask in this is practically based on his original mask, a Voxtech product just for Adam. Like Vox’s screen, it’s like a screen-face.

I’ll continue this

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin angel dust #hazbin adam #holydust #I worked so hard on this #hazbin hotel valentino #hazbin valentino

[takeomisbitch]

The Freak Panty Thief

Kinktober Day 1 Jean Kirstien x Fem!Reader

Word count:1310

Tags: NSFW, Modern AU, Panty thief, slight begging, slight sub!Jean, slight dom!Reader, caught, panty gag, cream pie, forgetting that there is a camera in the room so recorded sex

Synopsis:After finding your out your panties been going missing for two weeks when your best friend Jean would come over your decide to set a “trap” for him

Kinktober Masterlist | Attack on Titan Masterlist

For the past 2 weeks you notice pairs of panties would go missing then randomly show up whenever your dear best friend, Jean comes over. You obviously just thought it was a coincidence and that he wouldn’t steal your panties, he’s not that dirty or a perv. But one day when you notice he was in the bathroom for too long, you also notice your bathroom door wide open so you came to the conclusion that it is Jean but why not wait it out for a bit. 

To be honest you hope it is him because it kinda arouses you picturing Jean with a pair of your panties around his cock as he plays with himself, or him smelling a pair of them as he jacks off. 

—--- 

3 days later you now have a small baby camera hooked up to your room pointing at your dresser, you also cleared out your panties drawer and put a little note for Jean “I knew you were a freak<3.”  Now it’s time to lay your plan out.

You call Jean over for a horror movie night to start off the month, “Yea I’ll be there soon, Y/N.” He speaks into the phone, “Ok make it fast, bye” you hang up before he can say his goodbye, a smirk on your face as you wait for him to show up. 

Around 9 pm Jean is knocking on your door with food from your favorite restaurant, “Coming” you shout getting up from your spot on the couch to open up the door for him, “Took you long enough” Jean smiles at you, the smile he uses when he leaves you house with a pair of your panties in his pocket. ‘I got your favorite” he holds up the bag as he walks past you and into your kitchen, you close the door behind him walking into the kitchen as well grabbing some plates and silverware. 

“Hurry so we can start,” you tell him, rocking back and forth on your feet, “Hold on, let me go to the bathroom first.” He puts the food he had in his hands down on the counter before walking down the hall and to the ‘bathroom’ with his hand in his pocket like he is holding on to something. 

Within seconds you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket, pulling it out you see it’s a notification from the app that's connected to the camera in your room, opening the app you see Jean about to pull the drawer door open. Before he can open it you walk down the hallway and to your room watching the video that displays on your phone as you reach your room. Jean opens the draw and the look of horror washes over his face. 

“What you doin’ Jean?” you bite your lip hiding the smile that's on your face as you watch Jean look at you with fearful eyes, “I-It’s not what you think I swear.” He stutters out his eyes leaving yours and looking down at the floor. “You sure? Cause it kinda looks like you're going through my panty drawer,” smirking at him you walk closer to him pressing your chest up against him as his back hits your dresser, “I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to.” he bites his lower lip trying not to look down into your shirt, and a bit ashamed that he was just caught looking through your private things and trying to put the ones he took back. 

“I hope you washed them before putting them back”, teasing him. You bat your eyelashes at him, rubbing your hand up and down his arm “Of course I did.” He blushes, knowing you could feel his hard on that makes his pants 10 times more tighter, “Jean do you want to have sex with me” getting straight to the point hoping he says yes to you, “Yes please” he barely whispers. You take your shirt off dragging him to your bed, the back of his knees hit the bed. Jean soon takes his shirt off and throws it on the floor next to yours; his pants soon follow and left in only this boxer, his boner more noticeable. 

“Lay down for me, Jean” you ordered him as you took your pants and bra off waiting for him to lay down before taking your panties off. Jean lays up against your headboard, when he is finally situated you take your panties off and toss them at him. 

Getting on the bed you crawl up to his pelvis, looking up at him silently asking permission to pull his dick out, Jean nods his head letting out a small quiet yes. You pull his aching dick out of its confinements, his tip leaking just from getting caught and you touching him. Swiping your thumb across his flushed tip he lets out a small whimper, before you take his thick length down your throat, bobbing your head up down on his cock, drool seeping from the sides of your mouth the more you suck his cock, stopping at the base of this cock you hold yourself there as your hand reaches for his heavy balls you squeeze them as your pull your head back up. 

“Shit, Y/N I’m gonna cum don’t stop” he whines throwing his head back against your headboard, you quickly pull yourself from his cock licking your lips as you pant. “Fuck why you stop” Jean looks at you with doe eyes as his hip buck up into the air looking for some sort of friction. “Cause I want you to cum in me” you tilt your head at him, moving to straddle his lap, grabbing his length aligning it with your dripping hole, “I’m gonna need you to be quiet, Jean I don’t want my neighbors to hear you” you tell him before leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth. 

“Ok I’ll be quiet” You know he is lying Jean can be whiny even without sex, smiling at him you lower yourself on his dick bottoming him out as you both let out a hushed moan. “Fuck Jean your so big” slowly rocking your hips back and forth, Jean brings his hands to your hips gripping them so hard that it will probably leave bruises tomorrow. You grip his shoulders as you bounce up and down on his cock, your cunt squeezing him every time you lower yourself, “Shit if you keep squeezing me like that I’m gonna cum” he moans out his grip on your hips tightening even more. 

“Please don’t stop” he begs and moans as your sweet cunt squeezes him, annoyed by how loud he is getting your grab the pair of panties you threw at him and stuff em in his mouth “Thought I told you to be quiet” his grunts and moans become muffled and his blush deepens. Fucking you and Jean dumb on his cock you feel your high approarch you grab Jeans hand from your hip and bring it to your clit, “Rub it for me Jean.” His thumb rubs tight fast circles against your swollen bud, “Shit I’m coming” your walls tighten around him as you gush on his cock, the moan you let out was louder than Jeans you drop your head on his shoulder, Jean soon follows after you his cum painting your pretty pussy white as his cries get muffled by your panites. 

“Shit Jean you felt so good” taking your panties out his mouth, he’s panting has his licks lips the blush on his face never fading, “next time you want a pair just ask for one” you kiss his cheek as he hums in agreement still dazed from his orgasm. You giggle at his response getting up from your bed to clean yourself up. “Wait what you say” 

©Bella2023

#Bella writes ʕ•̫͡•ʔ #kinktober 2023 #jean x y/n #jean kirschtein x y/n #jean x you #jean x reader #jean kirschtien #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirstein #jean kirstein x reader #aot x reader #attack on titan jean #attack on titan x female reader #jean kirschtein x you #jean kirschstein #jean kirschtein smut #aot smut #anime imagines

[nerudebil]

Since I lov pokemon so much,I felt like making headcanons(if I can call it that) for ramshackle characters if they had a pokemon parthner. I was gonna include more but I'm too tired to draw today,,,

Vinnie:

- I gave her a Scorbunny

- Vinnie 'n Scorbunny didn't rly get along at first(I imagine Scorbunny stealing beans from her cus it wants food too) but they eventually get along n help each other pickpocket others.

-I can see them winning a football match,, and even if they don't,they at least have fun playing and setting the ball on fire.

- Cinderace's(Scorbunny's final evo) reminded me of Vinnie.

-they give each other high five cus they're cool.

Stone:

- I gave him an Umbreon

- I imagine Stone having Umbreon b4 he ran away(at least I assume he ran away) and became a stinky homeless alcoholic. He had it since it was an Eevee.

-also,, Eevee evolves I to Umbreon during night and by leveling the friendship(key word ***friendship***. I think it'd be wholesome)

- STONE IS EMO. LET HIM HAVE A COOL EMO EEVEELUTION.

Skipp:

-I gave him Smeargle

- i don't have that many ideas on how they could've met,,but I assume they kinda just became friends? I don't think Skipp would mind Smeargle's company,,, I imagined them simply becoming friends cus they're silly n polite lil fellas.

-I DIDNT RLY HAVE ANY IDEAS FOR THEM. IM SORRY.

Other characters I was goin to include but ended up not doin that cus hhrrrrpp mimimiimi hrrrrppp mimimimi zzzzzzzz:

Avrille:

-I imagine her having a Lurantis

-LISTEN. LURANTIS IS CUTE. BUT ALSO. STRONG N COOL?BASED ON WHAT I KNO.I THINK IT FITS AVRILLE'S PERSONALITY IN A WAY???THERES JUST SMTH ABT IT THAT MAKES ME THINK THAT. IT HAS SHARP ARMS(?) YET ITS A VERY ELEGANT N GLAMOROUS GRASS POKEMON

- Lurantis also looks like a candy/candy store employee. AND ITS PINK!!

- they're lab parthners. I said what I said.

Maroon:

-I barely know anything abt her,so I had to use ramshackle wiki fandom for that.

-i can see her havin a Herdier or Stoutland (the wiki also mentions she's a bodyguard n MAYBE a former officer)

- they're parthners n help each other out in life threatening situations

- they're cool

Tre:

- honestly?dunno anything abt him either so I had to pull the ramshackle wiki again. But givin him a Lillipup just felt right.

-so silly.

Ditch:

-I wasn't gonna add him to the list,BUT GOD DAMN I'D GIVE HIM A YUNGOOS CUS I CANT STAND YUNGOOS.

-SO STINKY.

#ramshackle #pokemon #ramshackle vinnie #ramshackle stone #ramshackle skipp #scorbunny #umbreon #smeargle #doodle

[clarks-letterman]

cherry on top | Johnny Slaughter x gn!reader

a/n — 1000% cheesy dumb self-indulgent birthday nonsense. wasn't gonna post because I honestly don't like this fic but the lack of Johnny stuff makes me want to just to put out something for the guy

words — 1.9k (the smut is short sorry, wanted to get this out on my actual bday!)

warnings — smut (not very graphic but still 18+), nipple play (Johnny receiving), food play, whipped cream, strawberries, implied cannibalism for both reader and Johnny, not proofread! consider y'alls birthday gift to me that i get to post one bad fic this year <3

summary — Johnny lets you take the reins for your birthday.

~~~

The door to Johnny’s shack shut with a bang, followed by a mumbled curse. From his bed, your eyes fluttered open. Between the mess of flower-patterned sheets and pillows you were buried in, you could see the man of the house take a step back to the door, then his eyes flicked to you to see if he had interrupted your sleep. You shut your eyes, too tired to take in the dreaded sunlight pouring in; you were so well-rested that you could fall asleep all over again—the feeling of sleep was addictive to your tired body. The only energy your body had was to pull the covers of his linens over your head with one hand. The earthy scents of him filled out the absence of his actual presence.

Your mind slipped away for a second, back into the dreamy state of consciousness where responsibilities didn’t exist and life had no issues. The man entering your cabin could solve about ninety-nine of your problems, though, and you slowly started to realize that you had an increasingly worrying problem on your plate. You peeked through the slits of the blanket at him. Even without looking at him in a clear view, he still looked like Adonis in your crooked and half-obscured-by-the-pillow perspective. Covered in his prey’s blood, his hunt was successful. But, hunting? Johnny usually woke you up at five in the morning, when the creatures of the night were heading to bed after a night of existence. You hunted in the realm of the crepesculars, operating on the thin line between night and day, all to maximize the hours you had to hunt and he was already coming back from it? It couldn’t be that time already, could it?

Johnny heard the sheets ruffle, and your breath hastily drew in with a panic. You had overslept. He let his knife clatter in the sink, turning to face you while leaning back against the counter. You could see the blood more clearly, it was smeared all over the front of his body. Staining his jeans—his favorite pair, the ones you said made his ass look the best—and trailing all over his torso before ending with a bloody handprint across his face. “It’s just me.”

“How fucked am I?” You asked, knocking the sheets off your body. Being a part of his family meant you had to contribute to the dinner at the end of every day, to make sure that everything was functional since you were Johnny’s piece—his pride. He provided less than a solid answer as you took a moment to acclimate yourself to the day. Ever since you moved in with Johnny, you had never really had a morning like this; a morning where your day started so late. Nancy liked when Johnny’s partners would accompany him on hunts and his more normal errands like getting car parts from the mechanic a few towns over and getting fruits from the market a few miles down the road, and she was too unpredictable to not heed the warnings of. Most of them came from Johnny, so that’s why you knew to take it seriously. It’s why today needed to be just like the rest, regardless of whether or not it was your birthday.

“Happy birthday, sweetness.” He smirked, knowing that even in the real world, you wouldn’t have any responsibilities today. “I woulda woken up right next to ya, but I was out huntin’ for your birthday dinner… and doin’ a few other things.”

“So, you did the hunting, tidied up around here, and went into town?” You asked, drawing near him. The blood had yet to dry, its sheen shining strong with the cracks of sun peeking through the window. He must have purposefully gone out hunting while shirtless, too. “What exactly is my present? A whole new Johnny?”

He let his head drop down and looked at his feet, rubbing his boot a little harder into the floor. “Something like that.”

It had only been a few minutes but the position you were in changed drastically. Johnny gave you a rundown of everything about your gift, including the various items that were included in it. One of which was a can of whipped cream that he picked up with the fresh fruit and placed it alongside them in the fridge—strawberries were in season, so two small wooden crates filled the space in his fridge next to the canister. The second thing was Johnny himself, which came as a shock. His first gift made sense because it was a sweet retreat from the many meals of savory meat from your hunts being fashioned into the three core meals one must eat every day, but the second was new. Different. Sensitive. He proposed it without looking you in the eye, so you didn’t believe it at first.

“I figured I’d be nice and give ya’ full, unlimited access. Get yer fix for the rest of the year so you stop chewin’ my damn ear off.” He sounded hesitant to offer it up, the fatigue in his tone from hunting as well as having to hear your incessant cries about wanting to experiment with him rang through. But today was your birthday, so he wanted to make it special.

Even if he didn’t want it at first, his tone shifted when your lips finally collided. You had been moving closer to him since you left his bed and now you were finding your way back to it with him in your arms. Your attempts to stay blood-free worked until you went to push him by the shoulder and back onto his bed, some of it smearing over your hand. Johnny’s legs hung over the bed and nearly touched the floor, placing his head around the upper middle of his bed and giving him room to lift his arms above him. This gave you the perfect access to get to work.

“Hell, I think this’ll be more than you can chew,” he teased. He cocked his head to look at where you were headed, your body was noticeably gone just as the fun was starting. But then, Johnny saw you return from across the shack with the whipped cream in hand.

From there, he became your already-painted canvas. The blood on him was the first coat of paint—still setting, still drying. Next in the assemblage was a healthy layer of the sweet foam. The cap came off with ease and you started coating him in it. You drew a heart over his chest first, then followed by swirling the foamy cream over his nipples. Johnny moaned at the cold sensation against his hot body. The way the can inconsistently sprayed droplets outside of your designated whipping area to add to the mess of red all over him. Johnny was already starting to feel desperate to the point that you had to shoo away one of his hands from knocking the cold cream off his sensitive nipples. You had never seen him like this before. Different. Sensitive. This was such a fast way to make him cave, and you had barely done anything at all! He must have insanely delicate around his buds.

You pulled back to admire your work. He noticed your puzzled look as you scanned over it like an artist who nearly had everything put together the way you liked it. “What’s wrong, sweetness?”

“It’s missing something.” You pouted. He had the perfect milky base, a cavalcade of saltiness topped with the sweet cream and bloody cherry drizzle. Though, something was amiss. The final thing to adorn him with that would make the centerpiece in the middle of the bed complete; something that would win the county fair. It wasn’t there. No, it was still sitting in the fridge.

You followed a loose path back to his fridge, swinging the door open and grabbing the strawberries on the shelf. Setting them on the counter, you grabbed two—one for you, and one for Johnny—and made your way back to him. He was still untouched, still perfectly in place without a hair moved for you. If he thought the sweet cold ivory was painful on his marinated skin, the cold sensation of chilled strawberries sent him over the edge. You ran it over him like an ice cube, watching it pick up some of the blood and whipped cream, cutting right through the heart you carefully drew over his chest. The strawberry was run across his body like the last bite of a meal with a sauce that you really want to get the flavor out of. Then, you lifted the thing to your mouth, taking a bite and savoring the bitter and sweet combination of flavor. The notes of metal in the blood were hidden and blended into the oncoming notes of sweet cream, followed by the tart taste of the berry.

Johnny’s face lightened as he watched you go in for seconds, dipping the rest of the strawberry in the sauce spread all over his body. You did the same with the second one, making it with the same amount of gore-soaked toppings and twisted dabble of whipped cream as the last. 

You offered the decadent strawberry to Johnny, but made one condition clear, “Bite down on this for me. Don’t eat it yet.”

His face twisted into one of confusion, but he didn’t question you. He let out a soft, “Aw, hell…” His mouth stayed open, waiting for you to bring the fruit to his lips. He accepted it when it was placed to his lips, wrapping them around the fruit, and, from the inside, he ran his tongue over the parts he could taste and lick at. He wanted to pierce the berry’s flesh, to make its flavor bleed into the rest.

While he was distracted with that, you took the opportunity to get to work. You lowered yourself back down so that your face was level with his pecs and started lapping at the dollop of whipped cream swirled around one of his nipples. You licked the soft peak away until there was only his hard pebbled flesh, so red and sensitive from just a few presses of your tongue. Johnny squirmed, a moan being muffled by the strawberry in his mouth. Things only got worse when you moved over to his other bud, doing the same motions to wipe away the cream and get to the really sensitive part. He struggled not to bite down on the strawberry, or to end this little reverie of lenience he offered for your birthday. He gave you so much power and he hated you for it. He hated that you made him squirm and buck his hips with need, desperate to pull you off his nipple and guide you to his waiting dick. But he fought the urge for you, to give you the control you deserve on a day like today. 

All he knew was that the feeling was too much, the juxtaposition of cold cream twirled around his rosy tips to your hot tongue leaving them a wet and sticky mess was much too much. In what was probably one of the fastest instances ever—he came. His jeans darkened with a soupy mess of white just like the melted remains of cream running over his chest and onto the bed. If this was desert, you couldn’t wait to get to dinner.

#x reader #x male reader #fanfic #johnny slaughter #johnny slaughter x reader #johnny slaughter x you #tcm #tcm game #texas chainsaw game #texas chainsaw massacre game #texas chainsaw massacre x reader #johnny sawyer #johnny sawyer x reader #johnny slaughter tcm #johnny tcm

[belokhvostikova]

You know, always being left alone to his own devices, I feel like as I child, Eddie would have acquired a pretty good—though definitely strange—talent for cup stacking.

Dad was gone, he got tired of waiting, and doing nothing unfortunately worsened his hunger, given that he had to think about it. While he liked drawing, paper was running low, his pencil dwindling to an unusable nub, and trying to sharpen it with a knife left his poor finger nicked. So, what’s the perfect distraction? The findings of a bundle of red, plastic solo cups that collected dust in his cupboard that he stumbled upon while looking for food.

It was quite fun actually, challenging himself on the floor of his kitchen, wondering how fast he could assemble and disassemble the stack of three, that eventually doubled to six, to ultimately ten.

But then, you know, Wayne comes along, Eddie’s now got more things to worry about, plus the one time he did try again out of curiosity, Wayne—who used said cups for their served purpose—looked at Eddie quizzically, gruffing out, “Y’know, I actually use them things, boy. Unless you wanna start doin’ ya own dishes.” Eddie, in fact, did not. So, they were put away (also, he got his hands on a pretty sick guitar, so cups became useless for entertainment purposes).

Then, you came. And so did a spring storm that bred an ugly, humid rain cloud that expectedly cut the trailer’s power out. Bored in the dark, Eddie laid back, quiet and thinking.

He quite loved liked you enough to reveal his dark secret. “Wanna see me stack some cups?” Spoken for casually.

You piqued a curious brow at him. “Are you fast?”

“Pretty damn fast if I do say so myself.”

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson headcanons

[sebsxphia]

guilt & hangovers.

rhett abbott x reader.

￫ description: rhett soothes your worries from the night before.

￫ c/w: drug and alcohol use, recovery, sobriety, hangovers, swearing, titty touching, kissing, food.

￫ a/n: as i go through recovery, i’ve found it comforting to myself to write these pieces. i hope it brings any level of comfort to all who read! <3 my ‘sobriety’ masterlist can be found here! my main masterlist can be found here! 💌

Your eyes squinted open slowly, peeling awake to the sunlight falling through your lacy curtains on your bedroom window. The reflection of the morning sun in your eyes shot to your headache immediately, making you wince. Your mouth felt full with cotton and your body ached a little. Rhett slipped in through your bedroom door with a warm smile.

“Good mornin’, gorgeous.” You gave him a kiss in response as he curled back into bed next to you. You propped yourself up slightly to lie on Rhett’s chest, humming in content. You were slightly hungover, but the warmth of your lover soothed your head.

“Y’ had a good time last night?”

“I think…” You questioned yourself as you played back the night behind your closed eyes. You remembered everything, which was the first good sign, but you were slightly on edge at Rhett’s question. “Oh God, why d’ y’ ask? Did I do somethin’ stupid?” You grumbled and winced again, burying your face further into his chest as you awaited his response.

You felt his chest vibrate with a chuckle and he soothed his fingers through your hair to reassure you. “No, no, darlin’. Just in the truck home, y’ were smilin’ to yourself, talkin’ about how happy y’ were, how much y’ enjoyed the night.”

“Oh.” You hummed back to Rhett. A small smile graced your lips with relief. “Yeah, I remember that.”

You do remember. That was good.

You both lay there in a domestic and blissful silence for a while. Rhett didn’t let go of holding you close to his chest as you let the morning sun wash over you both, slowly waking you up for the day. It was a rare Sunday when you had no ranch work to do urgently, hence the chance to have a drink last night. You were planning to enjoy this Sunday like you did best together. Wrapped up in the bedsheets and making home cooked meals. Your stomach grumbled at the delicious thought, but your mind was still pre-occupied with more pressing matters. Rhett’s question, again. That triggered something in the back of your mind. Past memories clouded your senses and you just had to ask one more time—

“Y’ sure I didn’t do anythin’ stupid?”

He chuckled again and squeezed you tightly to his chest, wordlessly reassuring you. “Why y’ askin’ so much, baby?”

“I guess, I just… I feel, guilty?” You rounded off your statement with a questioning tone. You weren’t sure what this feeling was. You instinctively drew your nail beds to your teeth as you chewed on them with nervous hesitation. Your nails had grew in the last couple of months. Without the constant gnawing from your swinging jaw once a bag of powder was soaked through your nerves, you had no real reason to constantly bite them. None the less, Rhett was there as a wordless reminder, drawing your fingers away from your teeth to play with them mindlessly. Deep down, he was purposefully distracting you, but on Sunday mornings such as these, he enjoyed feeling out each crease and indent on your hands.

“Don’t,” Rhett’s voice came almost a beat afterwards. “Y’ had some drinks, got a good level of ‘drunk’ and came home to me. No drugs, nothin’. It’s ok to have a bit of fun. You’re doin’ so much better now, y’ shouldn’t feel guilty for that.”

You were still laying on his chest and listening to the rumble of his morning voice through your ear, staring ahead and taking in his words. Your eyes traced over the pattern on your lacy curtains. You registered his words, but the guilt.

The fucking guilt.

It was gnawing away at your stomach like you would your nails.

“But d’ you remember what—”

Your proposed, and self inflicting argument against yourself, was cut short by Rhett barking out a quiet laugh. “Nope, nu-uh.” He clicked his tongue between his teeth and you sat up to look at him now. He wetted his bottom lip with his tongue as he shook his head, still with a small and knowing smile on his face. “I know you, your group knows you, your support worker knows you. You’re doin’ so, so fuckin’ well, darlin’. I won’t let anyone tell my diamond girl ‘ny different.”

“Okay.” You mumbled with a loving smile gracing your lips. You were still feeling a little too hungover to argue, and, you knew Rhett was right.

“Okay.” He agreed with you and outstretched his large calloused hands to cup at your jaw and squeeze on your cheeks. “C’ ere.” He pulled you down to meet him again and placed one, two, then three, repeated kisses on your lips. As he parted with a wanton and low groan, he asked the one question that he knew would make all your worries disappear in an instant.

“Y’ want a fry up?”

You comically groaned, almost similar to how you would when Rhett’s face was buried between your thighs. You let your eyes roll back into your skull and you flopped down dramatically onto the mattress, withering with obscene pleasure at the thought of your lovers famous fry ups.

“Fuckin’, please.”

A playful smile was still plastered on your lips and Rhett’s lips, mirroring your humor in seeing you react like that. He leaned down once more to kiss you again, expanding his palm to give your bare breasts a squeeze before leaving you in bed to make a start on breakfast.

“Grab the laptop, put on what y’ want, my sweet thing.” He called out to you from your shared bedroom doorway.

taglist: @beachbabey @tallrock35 @currentlybradshaw @unmistakablyunknown @iloveprettyboysblog @wkndwlff @flames-thebitch @peachystenbrough if you would like to be added or removed, please let me know! <3

#rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott x you #rhett abbott x y/n #rhett abbott x f!reader #rhett abbott x female reader #rhett abbott fic #rhett abbott fanfiction #rhett abbott fanfic #rhett abbott smut #rhett abbott angst #rhett abbott fluff #rhett abbott drabble #rhett abbott imagine #rhett abbott series #outer range #outer range x reader #outer range fic #outer range fanfic #outer range drabble #outer range imagine #outer range smut #lewis pullman #lewis pullman x reader #tw: alcohol #tw: drugs #tw: drunk #tw: drinking #tw: drug use

[lunarmelon]

Timeskip!GarouxReader

Part one of a self indulgent NSFW oneshot with one of my fav characters🩷 Minors Do Not Interact! Open to criticism since this is basically my first time writing lol Enjoy!

Yelling rings throughout your apartment, you groan as you finished gathering the remaining clothes from the dryer into the basket. You pad down the hallway towards your shared bedroom. Laundry basket at the hip, you stood at the doorway, glaring at the man currently in a yelling match with some rando in a video game. You cleared your throat making your presence known to him, though it does nothing when he continued to spew nonsense at the screen.

You sat the basket on the bed then turned to him,“Garou! Could you not yell so loud? Last thing we need is another noise complaint.”

“Mhmm, sure whatev-HEY WHAT THE FUCK MAN???” He shouted then groaned as his screen flashed ‘You Died.’ Garou sighed as he restarted his game and began berating the other player.

This only urks you further considering you’ve already had several discussions about his volume when playing video games, only getting a ‘m’sorry babe’ or a ‘won’t do it again’ when bringing up the topic. To be honest, you got the console for him as a gift, a way for you both to have fun while indoors, not because of his sad childhood and rough past that influenced you to get something nice for your boyfriend of three years. Sure you both had your ups and downs but you both managed to make it work, despite what life threw at you both. Garou managed to keep a few jobs from his rehabilitation with the help of Bang, and you were a veterinary assistant at a local animal clinic and had an art side hustle. Everything was going pretty good. A nice place. Food in your stomachs. Heater and A/C. Clean clothes. Clothes. That’s right, you got clothes to fold.

You snapped out the deep trance as you stared at your basket of clothes, groaning at the large pile. As you begin separating the pants and shirts, the yelling picks up again.

“Th’FUCK is wrong with ya?! No MAN, he was right behind me!!” Garou jumped onto his feet and hissed in annoyance as he grabbed the headset and proceeded to yell into it..

Yep, this is the man you chose. You blankly stared at him as he began pacing in front of the screen. You began thinking of options to get him to calm down and shut up. Start playing music loud enough to where it blocks out his yells? No, we don’t need another noise complaint. Block the screen to get his attention and tell him to knock it off? No, he’ll just move you out of the way. Unplug the console? God no, you’re no monster. You flopped onto the bed and loudly groaned. You lied there for several moments before you sat up and looked over at Garou. You stood up and padded over to him and placed your hands onto his shoulders, giving him a small massage, as you brought your face next to his.

You remove a side of his headphones, “Love, could you please quiet down? You’re being a little too loud.”

Garou studies you for a few moments before giving his signature grin. He removes one of his hands from the controller to touch your hand. “Sorry, babe. These asses just don’t know how to play a video game,”

You raised a brow and gave him a knowing smirk, “Mhmmm.”

He shakes his head as he gives a playful scoff then retreats his hand back to his controller, “I’ll keep it down, yea? We can do something afterwards, jus’one more game left.”

You smiled at his good reaction, “Okay, thank you.” You gave him a quick peck on the cheek before turning to…. your huge pile of laundry that you don’t want to do. You trudged over lazily and began separating the clothes into organized piles.

“‘Kay done!” Garou exclaimed as he turned off the console and placed everything where they belonged, as you scolded him to do after he gamed. He threw himself onto the empty side of the bed where there was no laundry. He positioned himself in a “draw me like one of your French girls” pose.

“Ouu, doin’ laundry, huh?” He piped up.

“Yep, that has to be done, unfortunately.”

“Not what I had in mind as doin’ something, but oh well.” He sat up and began helping you sort and fold clothes.

You smiled. “Thank you, Garou.”

“S’okay, babe. I know how much you hate doing laundry.”

You both managed to tackle the big load of clothes and had it folded and hanged within a matter of a few minutes. You returned the basket back into its rightful place, then made your way back into the bedroom .You giggled as you spotted Garou lying down with his arms opened to you. You skipped and placed yourself between his arms.

“Mmmm, you’re all mine now.” You hummed, with content, into Garou’s neck. He let out a little laugh and wrapped his arms around you.

"That's what I like to hear," he purred as he turned toward you and leaned in before halting a few centimeters from your face.

You breathed lightly as your eyes stared up into his with anticipation, his eyes flickered down to your lips then back to your eyes. A warmth began to pool between your legs as he prolonged the inevitable kiss. A small, needy whine escaped your throat. A devious grin forms on his face as he chuckles at your reaction, he leans into your neck and whispers,

“What’s wrong, angel? Got something you wanna say, hmm?”

You felt your stomach flutter with desire, you swallowed with anticipation. Your body ached and yearned for everything he offered, you closed your eyes and tilted your head back allowing him access to your neck and shoulder. His warm breath lingered on your neck, a wave of goosebumps shiver down your body, for a moment before he pulled away. You groaned in frustration, knowing he enjoyed teasing the fuck out of you when you aren’t vocal or open with what you want. You turned to face him, with an annoyed expression.

“What? Didn’t know what you wanted, soooo,” He teased, as he laid back into the bed with his arms crossed behind his head.

Annoyed at his charming antics, you decided two can play at this game. You crawled up to him and straddled his hips, you felt your face and neck heat up. Despite fantasizing about occasionally taking control during sex, you still remained fairly inexperienced to the whole act, but that doesn’t stop you from getting a little taste. You stare at Garou with a —, he smirks in response.

“Whoa, whatch’a doin’ there, babe?” He inquired playfully, seemingly pleased with how things are unfolding.

“—,” you hissed. You looked at him with a caring but serious look, he returned with a nod.

“Whatever do you mea- AH, fuck.” He groaned mid sentence as you rolled your hips against his clothed lala. You close your eyes as your heart rate quickens at his reaction, desperately wanting to hear more of him. You planted your hands on his chest and rolled your hips once more, a soft hum coming out of your mouth. You began to feel something stiff poking against your clothed pussy. A wave of embarrassment hits you as you notice the silence from your boyfriend.

You open your eyes, only to be met with Garou staring back at you with such love and lust. His cheeks flushed, brows furrowed, and that smile, oh that handsome smile you fell in love with, plastered on his face. Your face in turn burns with fervor.

“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous.” He confesses in a hushed tone as he places his hands onto your clothed hips, pulling you down into him.

“Garou.” You whimpered as your eyelids fluttered with pleasure feeling his clothed dick grind into your pussy.

“Don’t worry, angel, I’m gonna make’ya feel so good.” He assures you as he pulls you in for a kiss.

You sigh into the kiss, tongues intertwining one another. He’s first to break away, you both breathing heavily and stare into each other with want. He pats at your hips and as you begin to lift up, he flips you onto your back. His toned body engulfs yours as he hovers over you.

“Took a peek at one of your porn books earlier, and I wanna try a few things. Want to?”

#garou x reader hcs #garou opm #garou x reader #opm garou #garou headcanons #garou the hero hunter #opm #garou #x reader #opm fanfiction

[skylarsblue]

Hii! I would like to ask for Sinclair brothers with a gn s/o who struggles with an ed? Preferably anorexia, but you can make it unspecified if that'll work better for you ^^ Thank you so much and if you need any closer info, I'd be happy to help!

(Hope you're doin' alright and sorry this took so long!)

✦Struggling With An Eating Disorder✦

✦I make this a bit more subtle but please proceed with caution. If you're struggling, there are places to reach out. Including hotlines.✦

✦GN! Reader, unspecified race, height, & body type, again, proceed with caution✦ ✧Vincent; He/They, Bo; He/Him, Lester; He/Him. Bonus: Carly; She/Her, Nick; He/Him✧

✧Vincent Sinclair✧

Vincent's the most emotionally competent of his brothers, which comes with being an artist. They also understand being physically insecure, and wanting to change those aspects of themselves. Vincent will be the one to notice signs even if you haven't said anything.

He's hesitant to actually approach you with his suspicions, but his concern will eventually overtake the anxiety of being wrong. It's hard to be verbally gentle with sign language but they do their best. If you struggle to admit it and start crying or getting upset, they'll do their best to express that they aren't upset in anyway. He's just worried.

Victor was a medical doctor but had some books on mental health, which Vincent has read, and he will go back and reread them if he thinks they'll hold anything that'll help. The information might be outdated but he'll take whatever he can to ensure they know everything possible they can do to help.

Keeping up with a therapist is hard out in Ambrose, and all the brothers are hesitant about you leaving on the chance you let something slip. But, when trust has been built, Vincent will pressure Bo to let you go. If Bo doesn't take you, Lester will. You're likely to miss appointments but Vincent does their best to keep up with it.

They're not good at cooking or with food in general. They don't have a disorder but they forget to eat often. Still, he does his best to eat with you so you don't feel alone with it, assuming that's what helps. In their mind, making it more of a social things leaves less room for your mind to wander and make you feel bad. He'll even take his mask off for you.

Vincent's got a plethora of markers and paint, and they will absolutely go in on everything Bo brings into the house and cross out the calories. Even if that means painting over an entire package.

They enjoy drawing you frequently, and the way they do is always so honest and surreal. If you see his drawings of you, you might ask why he chooses you. Every time they'll respond with a genuine, from-the-heart sentiment. "You're the best muse I could have." "I want the challenge of capturing your beauty." "Every artist needs something beautiful for reference."

Vincent means it every time.

✧Bo Sinclair✧

Bo's really not emotionally intelligent. He's harsh and rough and approaches everything in life with a hardened expression. But not with you, not after you've wormed your way into his heart and made yourself at home in his ribs.

He's not gonna understand at first, not if you put it in simple terms at least. He's never had that problem. But when he sees how it affects you on really bad days, it'll start to dawn on him that it's not an easy fix. You can't just pick something up and eat it. It's a battle all the time. This is when he starts to soften up and treat it more delicately, as delicately as he knows how anyway.

If he can't find a working pen, he'll tear/cut out the calorie counts on foods & drinks. And if he's taken you out somewhere, he'll reach over and cover calorie numbers with his hand. If it's a big sign over the order counter, he'll simply tell you to go sit down while he orders. You might think Bo doesn't notice, but he'll know all your favorites by heart.

He's gonna ask you what he can do to make it easier. If you say you don't know, he'll throw out options until one seems to stick. And then he'll adopt it to his routine religiously. Forming habits is easy and he knows this. Adding another step to his general day routine is nothing for him.

Bo's hyper-protective of you. It shows in his reluctance to let you leave the town, to be involved in the process of wax figures, even climbing on the counter to grab something high up. Lester says it's the older brother in him, Vincent once called it "dad instincts". Ironic, given Bo hated his own father the most. So if he hears a single comment about your appearance from someone else, and it's not a compliment? He's immediately throwing hands.

He'll pick up photography again, a gesture he hopes silently conveys how he sees you. Every camera click and slide of polaroid film is him trying to tell you how he sees you, since he's not that good with words. He'll pin them up in the garage and certainly keeps more than one in his wallet.

Bo will rip the size tags off your clothes. But, he'll remember it, so that way he can buy your clothes. You don't have to worry if you no longer fit in a medium, large, or small. He's got it logged in his head. If he really isn't sure, he'll try to subtly measure your waist with his hands, acting out physical affection while gathering the data he needs. Just to avoid even the concept of you worrying about that letter in the back of your jeans. His physically affection will also double. Naturally, he's a horny bastard, and he'll try to show you he finds you attractive by using stuff like sex. But if you aren't up for it, or the insecurity is just a bit too much, he'll certainly settle for holding you on the couch.

And honestly? He'll bring back his old poem hobby, write you a sonnet, hoping the words on paper will translate how they do in his brain. "It's not that good but...ya know, the meanin's there." He's a bastard because it's an absolutely beautiful poem and it's definitely gonna make you cry.

✧Lester Sinclair✧

Lester's more in touch with his feelings and the emotions of others than Bo, but he's not as in tune as Vincent. Still, Lester is very observant of things like body language and voice cues. If he sees enough signs, he might not know it's an eating disorder, but he will eventually ask if you see yourself negatively. It breaks his heart when you admit it and part of him will wonder if he contributed in anyway. He's relieved when you say he hasn't, but it still pains him.

If your problems with food stem from things like childhood trauma or parental pressure, he's gonna have a murderous rage for those people, but you won't ever see it. The only Lester you see is charming lover with the patience of a saint. And terrible puns.

He'll probably talk to his brother Vincent for advice since Vincent's the one that was ever interested in mental health and psychology. He wants all the information he can get so he can support you completely. Lester thinks of himself as an idiot, but he's not gonna let that stop him from keeping you happy.

Lester rarely goes to grocery stores and tends to make all his meals from scratch. But, still, he'll cover calorie counts on anything he needs to buy in. Sometimes he'll move snacks into new containers because he couldn't find a marker and he couldn't tear that portion out. He won't even throw the package in the house trash, he'll put it in the outside one.

He drives into the city most frequently and he will absolutely go off his work route to drop off/pick you up from therapy. No matter how expensive the appointments are too. He makes decent money and he's got a pretty cheap lifestyle, but even if he didn't, it wouldn't matter. He'd simply pick up a second job to cover the cost.

Lester's cooking skills are actually rather impressive, and he eats surprisingly healthy meals. (excluding a lot of salt & using roadkill meat) If that's the kind of thing that'll help, then yeah. He'll even help you start a vegetable garden. Anything to help you and hey, acts as bonding time.

If anyone makes a single comment about your size or weight, he'll honestly kill them on the spot. Lester is the kindest of the Sinclairs, and he is the most sane, but he's not above chucking a body into the roadkill pit. If there's anything left to dispose of anyway. He'll get it done quickly & ruthlessly, then come home to you with a grin and a hug with your name on it.

Lester isn't good with words and he's not always sure if he's helping, but he makes it clear he's trying. You're his special person, if anyone's gonna make sure you know that, it's him. No matter what it is. He'll bend over backward without your request because he feels that's the bare minimum, to keep you as happy & healthy as possible.

✦Bonus✦

✧Carly✧

She understands the pressure of needing to maintain a certain weight. Society is a bitch, after all. But Carly ain't about that, and she'll support you with everything she's got. Whether it's chucking out calorie numbers or being with you for every meal. She'll do her best to encourage you to eat at least once a day, even if it's hard. And if you're struggling to the point of tears, she'll hush you and give you gentle words of encouragement. She's extremely proud of you every time you make a breakthrough.

✧Nick✧

He's an asshole a lot of the time, but he cares, he honestly does. Hearing you have that kind of struggle with your body is, well, it makes him angry. Not at you, but at the fact he can't fix it for you. So he'll speak to you softly and express his adoration for you as best he can, even if he's real rough around the edges. Even when he and his sister are on rocky ground with each other, he'll drop his pride and go to her for advice if he's left unsure what to do. Nick feels like you're the only good thing that's ever happened to him and he's fucked up enough in his life. He's not about to let you struggle with something alone.

#tw eating issues #house of wax #house of wax 2005 #bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair #vincent sinclair x reader #lester sinclair #lester sinclair x reader #carly house of wax #nick house of wax #slasher x reader #slasher headcanons #slasher #slasher community #slashers

[mythica0]

How about Mikey pranks Donnie by painting his battle shells and he retaliates by doing the same to Mikeys shell, by writing down calculations and using his tech to wash any mistakes with scrub brushes?

Calculations

🎂:ROTTMNT

🧁:Mikey

🍫:Donnie

Summary: Mikey decides to paint Donnie’s battle shell, he quickly finds out that Don doesn’t do art in the traditional sense.

A/N: Even though it’s a few days later, decided to make this one have April fools involved! Thanks for the request and enjoy!

Calculations

Ah, April Fools day. A holiday all about pranking your friends and family.

Needless to say, it tended to get pretty intense in the Hamato residence, what with the four teenage turtles that loved to hark on eachother.

And Mikey, the youngest, typically seen as sweet and innocent. Ohohoho, he was the worst out of all of them.

He had put red food dye in the shower, so in the morning everyone woke up to Raph’s screams of terror as ‘blood’ filled the bath.

He had made a copy of Leo’s mask and cut it up, replacing the one that he typically wore, making Leo think his mask had been destroyed. Only to find out the one he wore all the time was just fine.

But Donnie… was probably the one turtle that good ol’ prankster Mikey shouldn’t have messed with.

He decided that he would paint Donnie’s battle shell.

He didn’t put too much thought into it, it was a prank not a mural, and just added random dots of pink and blue and some yellow.

But Donnie was having none of it. As soon as he saw the paint on his battle shell, he knew it was the family artist. So, he went to confront them.

“Micheal.” He spoke in a threatening monotone. “I know this was you.” He nodded to the battle shell he was holding.

“Yup!” The box turtle didn’t bother denying it. “How d’ya like your new color scheme.” He finished with a wink and a laugh.

“Oh, Micheal, Micheal, Micheal, you have no idea what you’re in for. I would stop digging your grave deeper.”

Mikey laughed again. “Whahat ahare you gohonna do? We ahall know yohour prahanks are fahamously hohorrible!

“Tsk tsk, you really think I don’t know that? Do you underestimate me? Oh, no no no. I’m not planning on pranking you.”

“Wooh! Thihis oughtahah behe gohood! Whahat you got fohor me? A lehecture ohon science? Ohoho noho~ I’m shahaking in myhy bohoots!”

“Disappointed sigh. You never learn. Well, prepare to eatith thy words!” And with that, Donnie launched at Mikey and knocked him to the floor. He set his battle shell down next to him, and had it bring out some paint and paint brushes, along with some scrubbers.

Y’see, Donnie knew Mikey would do something. So he prepared his battle shell with supplies for revenge. Although he wasn’t expecting the battle shell to be the target of the prank, and thought he would be wearing it, but it’s whatever.

So, while he had Mikey pinned on the ground, shell facing up, he grabbed some of the supplies, and started to… draw.

Mikey immediately burst into laughter, squirming around as best he could while pinned to the floor.

“Angelo, stop squirming! You’re going to mess me up!”

“Whahahat ahare yohou eheheven dohohoing!”

“I’m painting. You do it all the time, can’t I?”

“Ihi mehean, yeheah, buhut ihit dohohosen’t seheem nahatural!”

“Well, yeah. I’m not an artist. So, to make something look good, I have to use math and calculation. Which, by the way, your squirming is making extremely difficult.”

“Gohood!”

“Not good, Angelo. Not for me, because it means I have to put forth more time, and not good for you, because this.” As soon as he got the sentence out, Donnie grabbed one of the scrubbers and took it to the place he had messed up.

“HOHOHOL- OHOHOMIGOHOSH!”

“Everytime I mess up, that happens.” Donnie smirked down at his younger brother, switching back to the paint.

“So the less you move, the better for us both… unless you like this.”

“Ihi cahahant exahahahctly cohontrohol ihit!”

“Well that sounds like a you problem.”

Donnie may have sounded like he was just doing this for revenge and nothing more, but that wasn’t entirely true. He was also doing this because he found it fun. Making his little brother laugh so much.

He will admit, he did mess up on purpose a few times just so he could hear Mikey cackle. Not that he ever needed to know that.

This process went on for a while. The whole time, Mikey never stopped laughing. Donnie would paint for a while, he would mess up(on purpose or on accident) and then he’d fix his mistake, making the youngest squeal and laugh loudly.

Eventually, he was done, and hopped up of his brother.

“Tada! How’s it look?” He spoke, showing Mikey a picture he had taken.

“Ihit lohooks greheat!” He spoke truthfully through his excess laughter.

It was abstract, didn’t represent anything from real life. It was just lines and squares, a few circles here and there. It was all very geometric.

But that didn’t mean it was bad, it just had that special little Donnie flare!

“Now that I am done enacting my revenge, I believe we have to clean both you and my battle shell off from paint.”

Mikey nodded, before realizing the implication that he would have to be scrubbed clean, when he squeaked and flushed in embarrassment and anticipation. “Oh boy.”

Donnie smirked and chuckled a bit.

“And be ready, it’s going to tickle quite a lot. According to my calculations.”

———THE END————————————————

#parrotwrites #sfw tickle community #rottmnt tickle #lee!mikey #ler!donnie #parrotanswers

[starry-night-rose]

“I know not who you are or how I got here but may I just say.....Hi.. how ya doin’”

Character Playlist / Character Inspirations

Full Name: Fabian Edwards Nacht

Nicknames: Monsieur Voleur (Rook) Mimic Octopus (Floyd) Bibi (Juvia belongs to @windbornearchon ) Fabi (Ellis) A charming employee/ a pain in the neck (Azul) Mr. Nacht (Livius and Radcliff belongs to @terrovaniadorm )

V/A: Ryohei Kimura (Japanese) Johnny Young Bosch (English)

!Twisted From Flynn Rider from Tangled!

Age: 18

Birthday: July 24th

Horoscope: Leo

Species: Human

Gender: Male

Pronouns: He/him

Height: 182 cm (or 6’0)

Hair Color: Brown with a touch of lighter brown

Eye Color: Brown

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Homeland: Port o’Bliss

Family: Unnamed “Nana” ,Unnamed Biological Mother (Deceased) ,Unnamed Biological Father (Deceased)

Dominant Hand: Ambidextrous

Dormitory: Octanivelle

School Year: 3rd Year

Class: 3-C (No. 14)

Best Class: Practical Magic

Worst Class: Art

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Favorite Food(s): Strudels, Cupcakes, Lollipops

Least Favorite Food: Anything Rotten

Hobbies: Rapping, Scheming, Making lanterns

Dislikes: Horses, The Police, Loneliness

Talent(s): Pickpocketing, Fencing, Playing the Violin, Charming others

Sexuality: Demisexual Biromantic

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Personality: A true charmer through and through! Fabian is a sly individual, always managing to get on everyone’s good side with his charm and wit. Most people can’t help but listen to everything he has to say! Fabian knows how to use his words to get what he needs from others. Always seen with a smug grin on, he always has a sardonic comment to make about almost any situation he’s in! He’s excellent at getting out of sticky situations using just his words and “charming personality” as he would put. Fabian is however unaware of the effect he has on others, causing him to be known as a “heartthrob” around campus for his accidentally romantic comments and actions. At his core, Fabian is a man who just wants to get by life while simultaneously living life to the fullest.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

TW: Childe Abuse

Backstory: Fabian was born in a poverty stricken area of the Port o’Bliss to two loving parents. Tragically, they passed away when Fabian was around four years old and left him to fend for himself on the streets. Fabian learned to trust his gut and to do anything he could to survive such as pickpocketing to eating food straight out of the trash. It was on one of those pickpocketing runs when he was 13 that he was caught by the police who hit him relentlessly and sent him into the local orphanage. Fabian didn’t mind the orphanage that much, it had okay food, other children to talk to, and a roof over his head. It was in this orphanage that he learned he had a knack for storytelling, sharing stories with the other kids long into the night to help them all sleep. Unfortunately he didn’t stay there long til he was fostered by a wealthy couple. The couple was nothing but cruel to young Fabian, forcing him to sleep in the basement, beating him up, forcing him to eat rotten leftovers if he misbehaved, and so much more. Fabian knew he had to get out of this house so one night, he fled the house and wound up back at the orphanage. He begged and pleaded to be let back in. Thankfully, the begging and pleading worked and he was released from his foster parent’s care. Fabian stayed just a little bit more at the orphanage until he was adopted by a sweet older woman who he affectionately calls “Nana.” She was like an angel to him, teaching him life skills and magic. Later on, he was accepted into NRC and was sorted into Octanivelle

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Trivia!

Fabian hates horses due to getting into a fight with one once! It didn’t end well for him....

He has a scar on his eyebrow! He typically covers it up with his hair

Fabian has dimples when he smiles!

He hates art class as he can never seem to draw the nose right

Fabian is oddly good at massages (He has no idea where he picked up this talent)

Fabian’s skill at the violin started when he was first taken in by his “Nana.” She had one laying around and asked if he could play. When he responded with a no, she took it upon herself to teach him

Fabian doesn’t remember much about his parents other than his mother made strudels, his father loved violin, and they both loved him dearly

The earrings he wears are extremely precious to him, the stud being from his “Nana” and the other being from his mother

#fabian nacht #twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland oc #twst oc #octanivelle #octanvivelle oc #my art!